


Winchester and Novak

by pebbles12345



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, Balthazar & Castiel Friendship (Supernatural), Bisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Chosen One Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Good Parent Mary Winchester, Guardian Angel Balthazar (Supernatural), Homophobic John Winchester, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, No Smut, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Rated M for Language and Situations, Roommates, Writer Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25148317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pebbles12345/pseuds/pebbles12345
Summary: Dean Winchester is one of God's Chosen. He was burdened with the responsibility of hunting down evil from the young age of 18. His guardian angel is an alcoholic lush who borders on the inappropriate, with everything. His one saving grace is his little brother, who Dean dotes on and adores. When Sammy gets married and moves out of their shared house Dean drunkenly places an ad for a roommate.Castiel Novak is a professor at a prestigious college. He is looking for a place to stay in the American South in order to work on a book while on sabbatical. His niece discovers Dean's ad and decides the two are a perfect fit for one another.Cas doesn't know Dean fights the evil that goes bump in the night, and Dean doesn't know Cas has first hand knowledge of that evil. Their secrets weave throughout their relationship, causing attraction to be embedded with the unknown. When their secrets come to light, they join forces to battle the evil entity that threatens the world.Alternate universe in which Castiel is a human professor, Dean is a Chosen One, and they fight the good fight together: Winchester and Novak.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 59





	1. And So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this was an idea I had for an original story, but the more I thought about it the more I realized this would be a good fit (hopefully) for our boys. Thank you so very much for choosing to read this tale, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I do not own Supernatural or any other book, movie, tv show, and/or song referenced in this tale.

Dean Winchester was drunk. As in drunk off his ass drunk. So, he did what any sane person who is so drunk they can barely stand up without assistance does – he got online. Craigslist, to be exact. He chuckled as he wondered who exactly this Craig was anyway and why he had such an extensive and expansive list.

Extensive and Expansive. Two words his little brother Sammy would have been proud of him for using. Sammy, whose wedding Dean had just gotten back from. Sammy, who found the girl of his dreams at Stanford. Sammy, who, despite everything Dean dragged him into and through, thrived. With the sentiment came a clarity through the haze. Dean smiled sadly before once more beginning his ad. This must be noted, he was still very, very drunk.

“Okay…” He mumbled as he began typing, with only his index fingers. Not to be forgotten, very drunk.

_Roommate needed because little brother went off and got married the bastard traitor. I am clean-ish. No pets. Person shouldn’t ask questions. Questions are annoying. $1,000 a month, utilities and cable (well, the Netflix password, I ain’t made of money) included. But you’re getting your own profile and not messin’ up mine, yeah, I’m thinking of you Sammy with your documentaries and shit. Two months rent upfront. And shared kitchen and laundry. Here’s looking at you kid. 5869 Maple Lane, Atlanta, Georgia. 555-755-2685._

Dean Winchester posted the ad, closed his laptop, and leaned back onto the couch. His face made a pained expression as he answered his too loud phone.

“What?”

_“Good to hear you’re alive, Dean. Jo said she had to practically drag you into your house.”_

“It was my little brother’s wedding Ellen, I deserved to enjoy it.”

_“I doubt you’ll even remember it.”_

“Did you call just to yell at me?”

_“I called to make sure you were okay, kid. I know how hard this is for you.”_

And Ellen did. She lost her first husband in a hunting accident, and if anyone knew how hard it was coming home to an empty house it was Ellen Harvelle. So, between the shared pain (although Dean knew his was far less than his pseudo-mother’s) and the copious amount of alcohol, Dean Winchester let down his defenses.

“Thanks, Ellen. Yeah, it’s tough, I miss Sammy already. I guess a part of me was hoping he and Jess would just live here. But why would they want that, I mean living with an alcoholic, surly guy who doesn’t get out of his robe all day sometimes probably isn’t all shits and giggles.”

_“Dean, you know your job doesn’t let you be normal. And what you do kid, it’s amazing.”_

Dean hated his ‘job’. Ever since the day that smug, British asshole with expensive clothes showed up on his doorstep Dean hated his existence. He wanted everything to go back the way it was before he _knew_. He wanted his life back, with his family. He had gotten into a school that was going to let him major in Music and Mechanical Engineering. And he had even gotten a scholarship. But that all went downhill quick with the whole, ‘You were chosen by God to save lives from the supernatural…” And the flippant way that arrogant bastard said that, like he wasn’t upending Dean’s whole life just pissed him off all the more. But he got Sammy through, he was now an associate at a law firm in Atlanta, with a beautiful doctor for a wife. And here was Dean, barely used guitar in his bedroom, working on cars when he can, and cleaning up a gun range on the weekends. He barely made enough for utilities and the only reason he had the house was because his mom left it to him when she went to Florida with her husband.

“Yeah, normal sailed a long time ago Ellen.”

_“Get some rest, Dean. I’ll call you in the morning.”_

Dean put his phone back down and rubbed his forehead. He wished Jo would’ve stayed to watch a movie or some sappy shit, but girl ‘scored’ at the wedding and Dean in her back seat was cramping her style.

He knew he could’ve asked Benny to stay. But Benny had a beautiful wife of his own now, Andrea. And the soft way they were looking at each other on the dance floor didn’t leave room for anyone else.

Then there was Lee Webb, who, Dean had to admit, brought about some very pleasant memories. And Dean thought about it, between Lee’s blue eyes sneaking a glance every now and then to the man’s effortless flirting with just about everyone, Dean was always entranced. But that ship sailed long ago, and the absolute last thing Dean wanted to do to a guy who meant so much was make him feel little, because Dean couldn’t offer anything now. And Lee Webb was not a one-night stand. He was warmth when it was cold and a breeze when it was hot. He was adventure and promise and safety. Until he wasn’t. Until the one night when blue eyes looked at him and said, ‘I can’t do this anymore, Dean.’

There was Charlie. And Charlie would have dropped her hot date off in a hot minute had Dean let on he needed someone. She would be right next to him now, shoving popcorn in his mouth and making coffee. She would put on one of the Avengers movies and comment about Scarlett Johansen’s ass. Then she’d ask if Captain America’s ass was comparable, because she truly wanted to know. And Dean would say that yes, it is very comparable. But Charlie was going home with Dorothy, and that was how it should be.

So, for the first time in a very long while Dean Winchester was alone, just as he felt he deserved to be. Tears escaped green eyes as he sunk further into the couch, hoping to disappear.

*******

In Palo Alto, California, Castiel Novak sits in an overstuffed white chair, tablet in hand scouring through hotels in the American South. His university has granted him a year’s sabbatical in order for him to focus on his fiction, along with one non-fiction collection about ‘Two-toed Tom’, the alligator who purportedly terrorizes people in Florida and Alabama. As he is about to book a hotel in downtown Atlanta, he put his tablet on the coffee table to answer a call from his niece.

“Hello Claire.”

_“Hey Uncle Cas. So, I found you a place.”_

“You what?”

_“Look, I know you, you were probably gonna go all ‘professor’ and book some five-star hotel, but is that really getting the full experience of the American South? Chocolates on your pillow, mini bar?”_

Castiel allows the grin tugging on the corners of his mouth to have their way, breaking into a full smile at his beloved niece. The niece he helped raise after his twin brother Jimmy died, a niece that became almost like his daughter. She had her own way about her though, and after graduating high school she took off around the country. Cas didn’t want her to struggle and hoped she would come back to college, since she pretty much had an open invitation at his university due to incredible grades and volunteer work, so he funded her endeavor. She’d send Cas pictures of all the interesting places she’d seen, and Castiel had to admit, the girl probably knew what she was talking about.

“Have you decided what to do after your gap year?”

_“You’re changing the subject. And yeah, I have. After you’re done with your sabbatical, I’m coming to you.”_

Castiel smiled more, fondness, love, and pure delight pulling at his core. His niece was coming home to him.

“I am very happy to hear that Claire. Now, where have you found for me to stay?”

_“So, it’s this guy’s house.”_

“Claire…” It was a warning, more or less, her name spoken like that. Claire had been there through his breakup with Hannah, the pain that caused him. He retreated into himself and his world of books for quite a while, only responding to his niece. His older brothers didn’t even stand a chance, not that they usually did anyway. Well, except for Gabe, he was a brother Cas occasionally enjoyed talking to. Occasionally. He was, well, eccentric.

_“Ugh, not like that Cas.”_

Castiel didn’t mind Claire leaving off the ‘Uncle’. At first, he didn’t understand and thought it was a lack of affection on her part. He wasn’t going to push it, affection could only be earned, not forced. He soon learned, however, that it was not a lack of affection, but an over-abundance of it. The ‘Cas’ was short, sweet, intimate, just like ‘Dad’.

“Then what is it like?”

He could hear the frustration in her voice, the hope that her Uncle would for once in his life not be a stick in the mud, or rather not have a giant stick up his ass.

_“He needs a roommate. His ad was fucking funny…”_

“Claire!”

_“Oh my God, Cas, you say that word all the time! I’m nineteen, in case you forgot.”_

Of course he didn’t forget, but this was his niece.

“I am perfectly aware of your age, I am just not accustomed to hearing that word from you.”

_“Well, anyway, it was funny, and it’s one thousand a month, which I figure you can swing, since you were gonna camp out at a hotel probably in downtown Atlanta for what, fifteen months?”_

The child knew him too well.

“Hum.”

_“See, I knew it. Anyway, it’ll give you a chance to interact with the locals, get info, meet people.”_

Cas closed his eyes and leaned back on the chair’s back rest. Claire was worried about him and his isolation. He understood. After Hannah, his world went from this large, beautiful place to a small sphere. He crumbled in on himself, only doing what had to be done. He lectured and wrote, but there was no heart in it. He knew it wasn’t fair to his students or staff, but he couldn’t seem to claw his way out of it. Claire lived with him then, saying she enjoyed the college town’s night life, but he knew that she was there to make sure he was surviving. He couldn’t count the times he woke up to coffee and toast on his nightstand.

Claire finally convinced him to see a therapist, Mia Vallens. And Cas had to admit, Mia helped him regain his life. He had even been on a couple of dates since, and even though they didn’t turn into anything, he still did it, and even had a good time. Inias turned into a friend, which Castiel always felt lucky to have.

“Claire, this is not a vacation.”

_“I know what it is. But, think about it, you’re writing your first work of fiction. And what better way to get inspiration then living with a guy who writes drunk Craigslist ads at two in the morning?”_

“How do you know he was drunk?”

_“I’ll send you the ad, and you’ll get it.”_

Castiel sighed, knowing that arguing with his niece was not going to do anyone any good, especially not him.

“Okay, send it to me, and I’ll consider it.”

_“No, Cas, you have to promise. Remember, I know you. And your ‘consider it’ is as good as a ‘no.’ I remember the ‘consider it’ for the classic Stang.”_

“The Toyota was much more sensible, Claire.”

_“And the hotel is going to turn into ‘much more sensible’ too. Promise.”_

Castiel looked at the ceiling, knowing he would do anything the blue-eyed blonde asked.

“Only if you acquiesce to a request of mine.”

_“Okay.”_

Cas sat up, surprised. Never had this girl agreed without knowing the conditions. She must have really wanted him to stay with this man.

“Claire, where are you?”

_“Umm…”_

“Claire?”

_“Atlanta?”_

Cas pinched his brow.

“And you what? Saw this man and thought, hey, Uncle Cas could bond with him?”

He heard the hesitation in her voice and waited.

_“You know how you said I was good with knowing people, seeing them for who they are? Look, I wanted to check him out, make sure he wasn’t a creeper before suggesting you stay with him. So, I did some looking, some digging. He’s lonely, Cas, and I don’t know, I just thought…”_

“How do you know he’s lonely?”

_“He was taking out his trash in his bathrobe at four in the afternoon and the trash clinked.”_

Cas rolled his eyes. Leave it to his pseudo-daughter to feel sorry for a man needing a roommate.

_“Just, maybe for your story?”_

“Okay, yes, I’ll contact him.”

Castiel had absolutely no idea why he was agreeing to this. None.

_“No, just come here. If it doesn’t work out you can stay with me for awhile. I like this town.”_

Cas had no idea how this girl could have such a hold over him.

“Okay, Claire. I will pack and catch the first flight I can book. But you are picking me up from the airport and taking me to this guy’s house.”

_“Dean, his name is Dean. I looked through his mail.”_

Cas smacked his palm to his forehead.

“That is a felony, Claire.”

_“Text me your flight info. Bye!”_

Cas sighed deeply as his phone pinged with an email from Claire. He read the ad and laughed; it _was_ funny. He printed off the ad, packed, booked a flight, and left California behind.

*******

Dean Winchester forgot that he drunkenly placed an ad for a roommate the night of his brother’s wedding. He was allowed to forget because no one responded to it. He did get a random text that said. _‘brothers man, am I right?’_ and a couple random dick pics, one tit pic, but he deleted those and blocked the numbers and assumed he had given his number out at a bar at some point.

After the wedding, and realizing he was in fact all alone, he tried to make the best out of a bad situation. And the best meant beer, lots and lots of beer.

He thought he may have a stalker, which amped up his life a bit. An adorable little blonde girl, late teens, maybe early twenties, who drove by his house on occasion. She was the complete opposite of threatening, and he decided to let it go. She was probably just friends with someone in the neighborhood. But one night she was out walking while he was taking out his empties, and he chanced a glance at her, and her striking blue eyes held _pity_? Well, that just made Dean Winchester feel like an absolute pile of shit and he retreated once more into his cave, his safe-haven, his house – which was no longer a home because there was no Sammy.

Netflix, beer, and Cheez-its got him through. Without Sammy, everything lost its luster. And he knew the kid was there, but he wasn’t gonna bother him, with his new wife, new life, and new home. They were still on their honeymoon, and Dean wasn’t about to interrupt that.

He never changed from his bathrobe and hot dog pajama pants. Ellen called a couple more times, once to complain that Jo was still with her hook-up and she didn’t even know the guy. Dean assured her the guy was fine, he and Sammy had known him a while.

Charlie texted and asked when their next Marvel night was, and Dean said ‘Friday’ and mentally reminded himself to shower. He was looking forward to it, much more than he cared to admit. So, with all his friends busy with their own lives, and not expecting anyone until Friday (this day being only Wednesday) he was shocked to hear a knock at the door. The only person, well being, who dropped by just literally dropped in.

Dean pulled his bathrobe around him tightly and opened the door. Standing in front of him, with a folded-up piece of paper in his hand was the most gorgeous man Dean ever had the privilege of laying eyes on. Black hair, black stubble framing his angular jaw and the pinkest fullest lips Dean ever saw on a person. Blue eyes narrowed in thought, head tiled to the side, and a fucking suit with a trench coat in May, in Atlanta. Tan skin that Dean imagined never stopped. The suit hid the physique, but Dean could see it was there. Dean held onto the door handle, shifted foot to foot, licked his bottom lip, and just stared.

He broke the gaze when he heard a small cough behind the man. And there was his stalker, same blue eyes as the man.

Cas was not expecting the man to look like that. The rundown Claire gave him on the drive from the airport did not give this man justice. But why would it? She was a kid and did not find this man attractive, but dear God, was he attractive. Cas could tell he was built even through the robe, proud shoulders, angular face, dark dirty blonde hair, freckles, and the eyes. Cas could stare at those green eyes for days, and apparently, he was.

Because the man’s beauty rendered him speechless, Cas just handed him the paper with his advertisement for a roommate.

Claire rolled her eyes with a smile. Since the two grown-ass men were having trouble, she thought she’d intervene.

“Hey, I’m Claire, and this is my Uncle, Castiel Novak. We uh, saw your ad for a roommate, and that’s what my Uncle here needs.”

Dean read over the ad he didn’t remember placing, chuckled, and stepped aside to let them come in.

“I’m Dean Winchester, and uh, yeah, this is the place.” He looked to Claire. “I’ve seen you around, haven’t I?”

Dean didn’t miss the stare-down her uncle gave her.

“Yeah, I have a friend that lives here.” She began walking around. “Nice house. Which room would be Cas’s?”

“Claire.”

Dean smirked at the warning in the man’s hella deep voice. A voice which sent shivers down Dean’s spine and he really wished he wasn’t wearing hot dog pajama pants in front of this absolute sex god. He tightened his robe around his waist and thought longingly about all the jeans in his closet that showed off his ass. Then he caught himself staring at the man’s ass. Then he looked up at the ceiling, held his robe to him and finally looked at the girl, who was also smirking? Geez, she was one of the observant ones. Shit.

“Through here.” And just like a real estate agent, Dean Winchester led them to the Sammy’s (spare) bedroom.

Cas stepped past the man in pajama pants and entered the room. It had a queen sized-bed, dresser, nightstand, the basics, It also had a bathroom attached. It’d do. Plus, he figured no serial killer would wear hot dog pajama pants. Plus number two, if the guy was dangerous, Cas had an Ace up his sleeve. And plus number three, this guy was hot, and Claire was right, he’d be a great story.

“So, a thousand a month?”

Why was his voice so fucking deep? Dean cleared his throat and stuck his tongue in the side of his cheek, “Yup.” God, eloquent Winchester.

“Okay, I’ll take it.”

“Really?” Dean shifted from foot to foot again.

“Yes, it will only be for fifteen months, I hope that will suffice.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, that uh works.” Dean felt let down. Which was stupid because this wasn’t his boyfriend, it was a man he just met but for some reason he wanted to shack up with the guy and felt disappointed this was a short-term thing? What the hell was that? He didn’t even know if the guy swung his way.

“Good. I suppose you have all the paperwork drawn up?”

“Uh, my brother will do it, yeah.”

“Okay, I will pay the fifteen thousand in cash up front if that’s okay?”

Dean faltered, “What?”

Cas squinted his eyes and tilted his head. “I don’t understand what you don’t understand.”

Dean rolled his eyes, okay this guy was hot but also a bit of an ass. “Cash, Cas?”

Castiel Novak studied the man in front of him. Claire was one of the very few who called him ‘Cas’ and this man felt the familiarity in a matter of minutes. And for some reason unknown to him, Castiel Novak didn’t mind.

“Yes, I was given a stipend by my employer, so if that arrangement works for you, I would prefer it that way, I will need a receipt of course.”

Fifteen grand, in cash. Dean could live off that for a good long while and he knew with his job he would need to. “Yeah, man, that works for me.”

“We have an agreement then. I will be spending the night with my niece, but I will be moving my things in tomorrow if that’s acceptable. Will your brother have the paperwork drawn up by then?”

“Yeah, he can do it tonight, I’ll get him to fax it to my garage. He’s on his honeymoon right now.”

Cas shook his head. “Oh, no, please don’t bother him. I can stay with Claire until he gets back.”

Dean wanted that man here, now, for reasons he couldn’t explain. He was drawn to him, wanted to be in his orbit, but seeming like a needy loser who didn’t understand the importance of paperwork was not the image he wanted to portray.

“Okay, yeah, he’ll uh, be back Sunday, so, Monday then?”

Cas nodded and started to walk back to the living room. They were all at the front door when Claire spoke up.

“Uncle Cas is writing a book about the American South, and maybe, as a native you could take us around, show us what’s what?”

Cas looked down at his niece, blue eyes flashing a warning. “Claire, I’m sure Dean has better things to do than…”

“Okay.” Dean interrupted, eagerly. Way too eagerly he thought, but damn it, he had to make Cas forget the pajama pants. He needed his jeans and black t-shirt, damn it.

Cas furrowed his brow and looked at the green-eyed man standing in front of him. He seemed to want to go with them. Maybe Claire was right, maybe he was sad. Castiel allowed some weight to drop from his shoulders. He regarded the man with renewed interest, almost with a hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could help each other. And the view wasn’t too bad either.

“Great!” Claire had every intention of setting something up and then dropping out, forcing a date. “So, uh day and time Dean?”

“Umm, tomorrow, meet me here, and I’ll drive?”

Claire brightened, “The Impala?”

Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, and his mouth opened a bit before he genuinely smiled. “Car girl huh?”

“Oh yeah, I wanted a classic Stang to take around the country, but Cas decided I needed a Toyota.”

“Consumer Reports picked it as car of the year, Claire.”

“See?”

Dean smirked. “Yeah, we’ll take the Impala, kiddo.”

How was there already familiarity? It felt good, to be with the kid and Cas.

“You might wanna lose some of the layers, Cas. May in Atlanta doesn’t lend itself to a trench coat.”

“You might want to wear actual clothes, Dean.”

It was smartass, it was rude, but damn it all if that insult didn’t head straight to Dean’s crotch. He liked smartass, smartass could handle him, smartass was hot. And to be a smartass within half an hour of meeting? Oh yeah, Dean was smitten.

“I’ll see what I can find.” And if he didn’t full on wink at the man. Embarrassment shot straight through him. This wasn’t a bar, this was his home, with his future roommate, in front of the guy’s niece, who was definitely enjoying this because she was smirking with this all-knowing look and Dean’s face was flushed and he pretended his fuzzy house-slippers with the Captain America shield Charlie bought for him were the most interesting things in the world. 

He practically melted into the floor when Cas put a hand on his shoulder. “I would suggest jeans, Dean.” And if that fucker didn’t wink back before he went out the door.

Claire, in her infinite wisdom, stayed behind to agree on a time. Dean was so charged, so electrified from that exchange that he was barely able to mumble an “Eleven, so we can get lunch” before she left.


	2. Jeans and Biscuits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Cas, and Claire bond while getting an early lunch. Dean and Cas visit the botanical gardens, and bond even further. A new presence also emerges, unbeknownst to humanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for the kudos and the comments! They mean so much as the author of this tale! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> I do not own Supernatural or any other TV Shows, Movies, Books, and/or songs referenced in this tale. 
> 
> The pictures were obtained from atlantabg.org

Dean picked out the perfect pair. The pair that got his ass grabbed in dive bars around the country. The pair that led to more lays than any other pair. The pair that hugged and tugged in all the right places. The pair that almost got ripped in tight bathrooms and cheap motel rooms. Oh yeah, this was the pair of jeans to impress one Castiel Novak. He finished the ensemble with a fitted black t-shirt and a hand ran through his hair. One final look in his full-length mirror and he was ready to go.

He was waiting on the couch when he got an incoming Facetime from Sam.

“Sammy, you okay?”

Sam was on the beach, drink in one hand; some fruity cocktail Dean always made fun of him for.

_“Yeah, Dean, fine, just checking up on you.”_

“I’m good Sam, actually got a new roommate. Hoping you can draw the papers up for us Monday.”

_“Dude, really? That’s great! So, get this, we have our own personal butler!”_

Dean chuckled. “That’s awesome Sammy, How’s Jess?”

The woman in question grabbed the phone from her husband.

 _“Dean!!”_ Her eyes scrunched up before a knowing look came over her pretty face. _“Why are you wearing your down-to-fuck outfit?”_

Sam grabbed the phone back. _“Dean, really? It’s not even noon!”_

“No, it’s not, not that. I am, uh, showing my new roommate around town, with his niece. That’s it.”

He heard Jess next to his brother, _“In the fuck-me jeans?”_

“Tell your wife I just wanted to make a good impression.”

_“With your dick?”_

Sam laughed at his wife’s words and Dean began to laugh too.

“Okay, okay, he’s hot all right? Like hella hot. And I may have been wearing pajama pants when I first saw him, so I’m trying to make up for it.”

_“No, Dean, not the hot dogs ones I hope? Right?”_

Sam knew he was right the second Dean didn’t answer.

_“Ah, come on, man.”_

Dean shrugged.

 _“We miss you!”_ Jess said loudly, causing Dean to smile.

“I miss you guys too.”

_“Oh my gosh Dean, take him to Hot Little Biscuit!”_

“Already planning on it, Jess.”

_“He must be hot!”_

“Fucking beautiful is more like it.”

That left Sam speechless and Jess grabbed the phone once again.

_“You go and get that man.”_

Dean sighed. “You know it’s not that easy, my life is, well you know.”

_“I also know you deserve to be happy. And you just called someone beautiful. So, you go and woo the shit out of the man who is about to move in with you. And Sam and I are coming over for dinner Monday night so I can meet him. And do the paperwork for the rental. The office closes at five, so dinner at seven? Oh, and can you make that lasagna?”_

Dean loved his sister-in-law so much; she was probably the only person Dean wouldn’t have fought for Sam over.

“Yeah, Jess. We can do that.”

Her smile lit up the whole screen. _“Good! Love you brother!”_

Sam took the phone back. _“Oh, can you make those little chocolate pillow things too?”_

Dean just stared at him.

_“Whatever, thought I’d try my luck.”_

“You can buy dessert and bring it over.”

_“Whatever, Dean. Have fun on your date.”_

“Bitch.”

_“Jerk.”_

Dean’s mouth tugged into a slight smile as he tossed the phone onto the couch next to him. He wasn’t expecting Sammy to call while on his honeymoon, but he loved the boy for doing so. One of Dean’s biggest struggles was never feeling good enough, so when someone went the extra mile it made him feel as though he means something to someone after all.

*******

“Claire, this is ridiculous.”

The blonde rolled her eyes as her uncle stepped out of the dressing room.

He tilted his head to the side, drew his chin towards his neck, lifted an eyebrow and addressed her: “I brought plenty of clothes for the duration of my stay. I do not understand why we are here and you are making me try on so many shirts.”

“Because none of the shirts you brought bring out your eyes, Cas. Like, why did you bring so many white dress shirts anyway? This is your sabbatical.”

“Because I am accustomed to wearing them.”

“Whatever, that one is better than the last two, but not as good as the first one.”

“Can we buy the first one then, and then leave? Please? It is already ten and we are supposed to meet Dean at eleven.”

“Fine, get the first one.”

Cas sighed with relief as he went to change back into his regular clothes.

Claire made him change into the light blue button down in the car. She also made him wear jeans, although her uncle was trying to get away with the dress pants.

“I do not understand why you are so into this, Claire.”

“Oh my gosh Cas, you two were hardcore flirting yesterday, like I give it a week before you’re sharing a bed.”

“Claire!”

“Chill, nineteen remember?”

“Regardless, I am your uncle, you should not be discussing this with me.”

“Cas, come on. I love you. I want you to be happy. I haven’t seen you that flirty since…”

The girl looked at her uncle apologetically. “Sorry.”

“No, Claire, it’s fine. It was a part of my life, and it will always be with me. And yes, you are right, Dean does seem to bring out some part of me that makes me want to flirt, and I did enjoy it. But I am not expecting anything, or really even wishing for anything. I have found a place that seems to be adequate for my needs, and that is all I should focus on at the moment.”

“Roll up your sleeves.”

“Claire, this is ridiculous. I am not trying to impress my future roommate.”

“Well, even if you aren’t hoping you can still leave him wishing.”

Cas sighed as he followed his niece’s instructions.

She smirked as they pulled next to the Impala.

*******

Dean nervously answered the door, smoothing his hands down his jeans.

“Hey, Claire, Cas. Uh, you two want to come in, or just go?”

The light blue shirt with rolled up sleeves exposing strong, tan forearms was not lost on the green-eyed man. Neither were the jeans that hugged in all the right places. He found his eyes averting a great deal and tried to focus on the girl instead of her uncle.

Cas’s eyes immediately went to Dean’s ass. And he noticed how the man leaned against the door to accentuate his _assets_. Cas internally chuckled, this man was not holding back. Cas figured he was embarrassed about his attire the last time they met. The professor wondered if they would even last an entire week without falling into bed together.

Although Cas was not a stranger to the occasional one-night stand, he always ached, longed for something more. He thrived in relationships, strove to be the perfect partner. There was definite attraction between himself and this man, but what was there other than that? Dean lived in Atlanta, he lived in Palo Alto, after these fifteen months there would be nothing, there could be nothing. A tryst lasting over a year would leave him damaged, because Cas grew attached. Not to mention the things Cas _knew_ , the things that made relationships difficult, and dangerous. He was able to live with and love Hannah better than he ever hoped. But the guilt he felt for exposing her to the _life_ was something he would never forgive himself for. Even though it broke him, he didn’t blame her for going back to her first _normal_ husband. She left him with a kiss and tears running down her cheeks; with a _“Thanks for everything, be safe Castiel_.” He scoffed even then.

With a smile that held more sadness than he cared to show, Cas answered the man with the fabulous ass: “We can go, if that’s all right Dean.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Dean wanted to impress the shit out of this man, so, he did what any sensible man wanting to woo someone did, he sucked up to the family.

“You, uh, want to drive, Claire?”

The young woman’s jaw dropped, her blue eyes holding excitement typical of her age. “Are you serious? Fuck yeah!”

“Claire!”

And there was that deep, gravelly voice again that definitely did not make Dean shift where he stood.

“Cas, come on. Dean doesn’t care about my language, do you Dean?”

Dean slightly laughed. “Of course not kid, but uh, your Uncle here seems to, so, maybe we’ll both watch our F-bombs, huh?”

Claire rolled her eyes with a smile. “Deal. So, uh, if you want to score points with him use ten-dollar words. His professor-ness never dies.”

“Claire. I’m sorry, Dean. My niece seems to obtain a great deal of satisfaction out of my slight discomfort.”

Dean laughed again, he was enjoying this family. “No reason to be uncomfortable, Cas. We’re just getting to know each other, right? Besides, I know a lot about the ten-dollar words from my nerdy lawyer brother.”

“I promise, I’m not pretentious, in spite of what my niece says.”

“You’re smart, Cas, don’t hide it. You two ready?”

They headed out to the Impala, with Dean locking the door behind him. He handed Claire the keys. “All right kid. Her name is Baby, and she drives like a dream.” He turned towards her uncle, “You okay with riding in the back, Cas? I just wanna make sure Claire gets the ins and outs of Baby.”

“That is fine, Dean. I appreciate your taking us out and allowing Claire to drive.”

Dean patted the man’s shoulder, causing a surge of electricity to run up through his arm. He could tell Cas felt it too. “Anytime, man.”

*******

Castiel Novak watched with interest and admiration as Dean laughed and instructed Claire as she was driving the vintage muscle car; he also didn’t miss how Dean would catch his blues in the rear-view mirror.

There was no doubt that Cas was attracted, drawn to the man even. But even if this did work out, even if something came of it, what then? Cas was the type of man who wanted to get married, have a family, adopt kids who needed him. As if he could, as if wanting it enough would make it happen. He almost had that with Hannah, but then it all went to shit. Her first husband came back into the picture, and she realized she still loved him. Which almost broke Castiel, so even though he was better, trusting was difficult. _Trust_. A word that felt bitter on the man’s tongue. How could he expect to trust someone when he knew they couldn’t trust him? Cas knew that since she was still in love with her first husband there was no way she could have fully loved him, and that realization ripped a hole in his chest that sometimes still burned. There was also the knowledge that her first husband was _normal, safe_ , two things Castiel Novak was not.

His hand absent-mindedly went to his chest and Dean furrowed his brow when he caught sight of him in the backseat.

“Cas, you okay?”

Cas was taken away from his thoughts by Dean’s voice. A voice which Cas wouldn’t mind hearing every day of his life. Fuck his knowledge, fuck that angel for fucking up his life. Fuck the circumstances that made him not be able to give someone what they deserved. And fuck Dean Winchester for having the most beautiful green eyes Castiel had ever seen.

Claire then took an interest, making eye contact in the rearview mirror while Dean was completely turned around and raised in his seat at this point.

“Cas, do you need me to pull over?”

“Claire, I’m fine, eyes on the road.”

Claire rolled her eyes as she once more faced the front.

Dean reached over the seat and put his hand on Cas’s knee, which was distracting to the point of Castiel forgetting absolutely everything except the current running from his knee to his stomach, causing the most pleasant types of flutters.

Castiel took his hand from his chest and put it on top of Dean’s. “I am fine, Dean. I appreciate your concern.”

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, his hand being encompassed by _Cas_ , and everything that entailed – the heat, the shock waves, the knots in his stomach, the flow of blood to his face and elsewhere, the what was that feeling, _safety_? The shock of all of those feelings left Dean stock still and he didn’t even notice when Claire mastered a fucking perfect parallel park in front of a meter.

That poor kid, in the middle of all the sexual tension between her uncle and some rando. Dean’s kid switch flipped and his first instinct was to protect her. He pulled his hand back with a sincere smile.

“Of course, Cas.”

Claire raised her eyebrows and smirked in the same way as her uncle, and Dean noticed just how much they looked alike. “So, if that moment is over, can we go eat? I’m starving.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, come on kid.”

*******

Cas’s brow furrowed at the menu. “So, these aren’t the same as English biscuits?”

“Nah man, these are southern biscuits. They’re full of butter, and lard, and fat, and deliciousness.”

Cas’s eyebrows reached towards his forehead. “I am at a loss here, Dean. I normally eat yogurt and fruit for breakfast.”

“Just like my brother, man. Okay look, tell me what you like and uh, I’ll order.” And there it was, Dean’s million-dollar grin that impressed the ladies, the men, and everyone.

The beauty of it was not lost on Castiel. “I wish for you to surprise me, Dean. I trust your breakfast choices concerning ‘biscuits’.” And if that adorable little fucker didn’t use air quotes.

Dean was pretty much head over heels at this point.

“Gotcha. Claire, you good?”

“Yeah, I’m not as uh, undereducated about American cuisine as my uncle.”

Cas glared at her with a smile.

The waitress came over to refill their coffee mugs. “I just gotta say, y’all are an adorable family.”

Cas looked down at his hands which were folded in his lap. Claire smiled, her all-knowing smile, and Dean blushed.

“We’re not, uh…”

Cas interrupted him, “Thank you, ma’am. I believe we’re ready to order, I’m putting this one in charge of mine.” He smiled so sweetly at the waitress that Dean almost melted, again.

After they had ordered, Dean sat back, the embarrassment finally leaving him.

Claire spoke up after pouring a shit ton of sugar into her coffee, “We are adorable.”

Cas rolled his eyes and shook his head with amusement.

The look on Cas’s face after he bit into his biscuit containing nothing but butter and jam let Dean know he made the right choice.

“This is Southern food? This makes me very happy.”

Dean smiled as he licked his bottom lip, “Part of it. I’ll introduce you to the rest later.”

Claire was enjoying hers as well, she kept looking at her uncle as she put apple butter on her biscuit. “Here, try this.” She pulled off a bite and handed it to Cas.

“This is delicious. What is this?”

“Apple butter, I kinda put it on everything now.”

Dean enjoyed watching Cas enjoy his food more than he was enjoying his own.

After Cas paid the bill and left a considerable tip, (Cas insisted because they were using Dean’s car and Dean was nice enough to take them around) Dean suggested they go to the Botanical Gardens. He had a feeling the man beside him just enjoyed flowers.

Claire inwardly smiled at just how well this was going. There was hardly anything her uncle loved more than nature, and the beauty nature could produce.

“Yeah, so, I’m not much of a flower kinda girl, so, I’m gonna get an Uber to take me back to my car and then head home. Dean, you okay with taking Cas back to mine?”

She pointedly ignored the glower she was currently receiving from her Uncle.

“Uh, yeah, that’s fine, you sure you don’t want to go with us, kiddo?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

And before her Uncle could protest, Claire Novak, in her spirited youth, bounced out of her seat and out of the restaurant.

Cas drummed his fingers on the table and looked at his companion apologetically. “I am very sorry Dean, I can set up an Uber for myself as well to take me back to Claire’s. She has ideas, and takes notions without consulting, well, anyone.”

Dean laughed. “She’s a good kid. Naw, we can go, I mean, if you want.”

Cas smiled softly at his companion. The ‘if you want’ hitting him straight in the heart. It was barely uttered, but it was hopeful. “I would very much like to go to the gardens with you, Dean.”

The way the blue-eyed man said his name made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. The voice was commanding, yet kind. He wanted to hear his name uttered by that man in many different situations.

“Uh, okay, you, uh, ready?”

*******

Dean relished the look on Cas’s face as they approached the fountain in the gardens that was sculpted by Dale Chihuly in 2004. The man sat on one of the benches to fully appreciate the beauty and fluidity of the blue and white sculpture. He leaned forward, as if to be closer to the fountain. He clasped his hands together between his knees, his face held a look of pure adoration for a talented man’s creation.

“This is beautiful.” Cas finally muttered, awe present in his voice.

In true Dean Winchester fashion, he blurted his thoughts without thinking: “It reminds me of you and Claire, one of the reasons I brought you here.”

Cas looked at him with a quizzical expression, eyebrows reaching his forehead, blue eyes opened wider than normal.

Dean faltered and blood rose to his cheeks as he studied his hands. “The uh…” Shit. What had he gotten himself into with that? “The colors, the blue fading and turning into the white. It’s uh, kinda like y’all’s eyes, you know? And then there is this wildness to it, that just screams Claire. But also, there’s a type of, I don’t know, grace in the fluidity of it? And that reminds me of you.” Dean tugged at the collar of his t-shirt, to help with the suffocating feeling he suddenly felt.

Cas reached over and grabbed one of the hands in Dean’s lap. The action surprised the man and he looked immediately into Cas’s eyes and saw an apprehension, a timidity, and also a softness that reminded him of the look Benny was giving Andrea on the dance floor of Sammy’s wedding. The look caused his heart to pump wildly, as did the cool touch of the man’s hand.

“I have worked with people for years that have been trained in words, that have been taught how to speak, how to write, how to persuade; however, that was the most sincere, the most beautiful, and the most eloquent compliment I have ever received, and I will never forget it.”

Dean cleared his throat and stood up. This was only for a little bit over a year, he didn’t have a chance to fuck up this man’s life as he did all the others, so the flirting and compliments were okay, right?

Cas stood up as well, following the man’s lead. “Where to?”

Dean looked up at the sky, “You like orchids?”

*******

Dean watched as Cas caressed the blooms. “The craftsmanship of these blossoms is so intricate, so organized.”

Dean chuckled. “I have never heard flowers referred to as ‘organized’ before.”

Cas looked at him. “But they are, don’t you agree?”

Dean shrugged, “Sure, I guess.”

Cas’s left corner of his mouth tugged up in a type of half-smile. He made a non-committal noise as he continued to walk through the orchids; his long fingers stopping every now and then to stroke the buds. As Cas was admiring the flowers, Dean was admiring Cas. The view was equally beautiful for both.

“You and Claire look an awful lot alike.”

They were walking back towards the fountain, side by side, mere inches apart. Dean wanted to take the hand that was no more an inch away from his own, the heat palpitating from the nearness of skin to skin. He refrained however, afraid of rejection and pushing the man away.

Cas smiled at the ground sadly. “Yes, her father was my twin.”

Dean paused at the use of past tense. “Cas, I’m so sorry.”

Cas was used to pity. Losing Jimmy was like losing a part of himself. He hadn’t felt whole since his brother died all those years ago. He looked to Dean and was surprised to find not pity in his eyes but sympathy, empathy, warmth, and affection. It made him want to close the distance between them, walk shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand. He knew Dean was attracted to him, and the feeling was mutual. But he couldn’t mess up this man’s life. He wouldn’t. But he could provide companionship, for a while anyway.

“Yes, it was a difficult time. Claire’s mother went on a downward spiral, and I had custody of Claire for a few years, until Amelia recovered.”

“You two are close, huh?”

“She is practically my daughter. Probably the closest I will ever have to one in my line of work.”

 _Shit_. Castiel Novak did not mean to let that slip. He hoped Dean did not catch it.

“As a professor?”

 _Shit._ Of course, he had.

“Yes, it is very demanding. I have to travel, write, lecture. Very time-consuming.” What a horrible excuse.

Dean let out a sardonic, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had a full-time job since I was eighteen.” _Way to reel him in Winchester_.

Cas stopped, causing Dean to stop abruptly beside him. Dean noticed they were back in front of the fountain. The blue-eyed man tilted his head and studied Dean intently.

“I have known you for twenty-four hours Dean Winchester, and in that time, I have learned a great deal about you. You are funny. Your ad on Craigslist made me laugh, and my life doesn’t lend itself to joviality all too often. You are kind, almost to a fault. You met my niece twice, and you let her drive your car; which I can tell you have an abnormal obsessive gravity towards. You treated her as if she were your relation. You offered to show us Atlanta. You opened your home to me. Your concern for my well-being when I was the tiniest bit distraught in the car was more heartfelt, more encompassing than I have received from even my closest relation outside of Claire. I can tell the affection you feel towards your brother from the look you get in your eyes when you discuss him, even minutely. He is a lawyer, and I have a feeling you had a great deal to do with his success. So, do not, for one moment, undervalue your contribution to this world.”

Dean stood, stunned, his eyes glistening with the prick of tears. “Fuck, Cas. That’s not… that’s not… I’m not…”

Cas stepped even closer, his body heat making Dean almost forget how to breathe.

“What’s the matter, you don’t think you deserve kindness?”

Dean lost his inhibitions. He reached out and pulled Cas into a hug. A bone-crushing, emotional hug. Cas put one hand at the nape of Dean’s neck and the other on his back, rubbing up and down. His head was buried into the space between Dean’s neck and his shoulder. Dean had one hand on the small of Cas’s back and the other tangled up in the hair on the head that was resting on his shoulder. He buried his head into the hair on the side of Cas’s head, allowing the man’s raven tresses to catch his tears.

The hug was more than a simple embrace, it was a promise. It was platonic and romantic. It offered friendship and romantic pleasure. It was two bodies fitting so well together that time stood still. It was heat, lightning, electricity, calm, serene, cooling, it was the ocean meeting the sand, it was the sun setting so the moon can shine – it was everything.

*******

On a plane different from our own, pulled out of the ether, a shining, shimmering, glistening void begins to take form. The void rises, slick, brilliant, and indescribable. The shape begins to move, long legs taking form, leading to a torso, shoulders, then a head, a face begins to take shape, long nose, eyes set fairly close on either side. Hair slicked back, gray standing out on the temples. The void now appears as a man, around six feet, five inches. The attire he manufactures from the ether surrounding him consists of an expensive three-piece suit that fits his chosen form well. A golden pocket watch hangs from the pocket of his vest and he pulls it out to check the time.

2:48pm.

He moves his head side to side to adjust to this new form. He takes off the jacket and puts it on the back of a chair that appears. He creates a red paisley smoking jacket to replace the suit jacket. A pipe is next, already lit when he places it between thin, dark pink lips.

With a wave of his hand, other shapes begin to form from the void surrounding him.

He sits in the chair, puffs of smoke rising from the pipe and swirling around his head. The shapes take on the forms of men and women, they slowly crawl to his feet, and lay prostrate, waiting on instruction. Arms outstretched in front of his throne, their bellies to the ground, they lie in wait. Silent praising rising from their conscience.

The Void looks around him, notes all the shapes now waiting for a mere utterance from his newly formed lips. He toes the minion nearest him, wishing him to stand.

The creature utters mildly, never making eye contact. “Yes sir, your Omnificence?” 

The Void narrowed his eyes, contemplating the title the minion bestowed upon him. “Do you really think that name befits me, cretin? I am nothing and everything. I am all there is, and all there never will be, and yet you do me the disservice of calling me omnificence?”

The creature visibly shakes, his words made almost indecipherable by vibration: “I apologize Sir, please tell me what to call….”

With the smallest movement of his index finger the creature once more returns to the void, never to speak again. The Void toes the next closest minion, causing the new creature to rise instead.

“Yes Sir?”

The Void smiled, revealing all too perfect white teeth. “Better. It is time.”

The creature dared not speak, but instead asked his question with his eyes.

The Void held his disgust at the creature’s ignorance in his eyes. He surveys the room, eyes falling on the creatures he raised from the void laying at his feet, afraid to move, afraid to breathe the stale air into their new forms. The Void traces his lips with the pipe and looks to the creature he beckoned to stand; an answer poised on his tongue:

“They’ve met.”


	3. Undeserving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Charlie watch Infinity War and chat, Cas and Claire shop for furniture, Cas, Dean, Sam, Jess, and Claire have dinner (where Sam makes a startling realization), and a certain angel makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for choosing to read this story! And thank you so, so much for the kudos, comments, subscriptions, and bookmarks! I can't tell you guys how meaningful they are to me, I appreciate them so much! 
> 
> I do not own Supernatural or any other TV Shows, Books, Movies, Websites, and/or Songs referenced in this tale. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this chapter! I had a great deal of fun writing it and I was ridiculously excited to include a certain Angel at the end. :-)

“You didn’t kiss him?!” the red-headed woman yelled somewhat indignantly. She paused _Infinity War_ so that she could pay full attention to the green-eyed man sitting next to her.

“Charlie, we were in public, and it just didn’t feel right, you know?”

“No, I don’t know, Dean, so uh, explain it to me? Because from where I’m sitting, there’s a hot guy, who is so obviously into you, and you don’t just go for it? What the fuck, dude?”

Dean sighed as he took a hefty swig from his bottle of beer. “It wasn’t the right moment. It would’ve felt _wrong_. Besides he’s gonna be my roommate, so, I should probably just let that whole idea go.”

Dean didn’t want to let it go. That hug felt powerful; the embrace felt safe, as if nothing else mattered at that moment. The world could’ve ended right then, and Dean would’ve died happy. Dropping Cas off at Claire’s caused a sinking feeling in the pit of Dean’s stomach; the blue-eyed man was a magnet, and Dean was a piece of iron. They were opposite poles, the magnetism pulling strong between them.

But Dean knew he had to let that hug be all he longed for; all he could allow himself to have. Because Dean Winchester was not about to fuck up that beautiful man’s life with his own shitty existence. He couldn’t expose him to what he _knew_ , what he _did_. That would be cruel and unkind, and all the things Dean strove not to be.

Lee was exposed, Dean brought him into the life with him. And damn, they fought well together; their battle stances almost perfectly in-sync. But on a particularly bad hunt Lee had to watch Dean almost die, and the man Dean thought he would spend the rest of his life with told him he couldn’t do it anymore.

_They were sitting on the hood of the Impala, drinking beers and looking up at the stars on the clearest spring night Dean could remember. They were in a clearing, trees grouped together in odd fashions at their sides. Dean could make out some constellations, although he would never admit he had that knowledge._

_“Dean?”_

_Dean’s heart beat intently at the use of his name. Lee only addressed him by his name when they were in public or in the middle of a fight. Every other time it was ‘baby’, ‘babe’, or something insulting that they both knew was actually a term of endearment like ‘hey asshole’. But when Lee called him ‘Dean’ in the private of a clearing in the middle of nowhere, the green-eyed hunter knew something undesirable was coming._

_“Yeah?”_

_Lee knew his man. He turned towards green eyes and made the man look at him with an easy touch to his chin._

_“You know you’re my world, Baby.”_

_Dean flinched, waiting for the ‘but’._

_“But I can’t do this anymore, Dean.”_

_Dean knew this was coming. He knew it the moment Lee saw him bleeding out on the floor of some god-forsaken cabin in the middle of nowhere, werewolf guts strewn around them. He knew it the moment Lee’s shaking hands pressed his dirty jacket against the wound futilely, Dean’s own guts spilling out onto the floor. He knew the moment Lee’s eyes were scrunched shut trying to fight off the bright light encompassing the room. Lee decided right then and there this life wasn’t for him anymore._

_Every day they spent together after was a consolation; Dean felt Lee slipping away the moment they got back to the motel - when he closed the door to the bathroom and didn’t invite Dean into the shower with him, one of their after-hunt rituals. His excuse when he got out, long hair dripping, was that Dean had been cleaned by grace, and he didn’t see the point._

_He did have sex with Dean that night, but even that felt different, like Lee was holding back a part of himself. Dean put an arm around the man as they slept, green-eyes pooling with tears. He knew Lee was gone mentally, that he left Dean back in that cabin, and he wondered just how long it would take before he left physically._

_It took two months. Two excruciating months where Dean kept trying to reach him but couldn’t. And Lee was so much to Dean that Dean couldn’t simply let it go. He wouldn’t. Dean Winchester always fought for those he loved._

_But the ‘I can’t do this anymore’ hit him straight in the gut, because Dean should have never asked Lee to do this in the first place. Anger with himself and his life bubbled to the surface. He pushed everyone away, fought on his own, drank so much Sam called their mom. But it didn’t matter, Dean had a death wish. He wasn’t careful on hunts, he drank every morning and night, and didn’t answer his phone._

_As with all things, time helped. He eventually became Dean Winchester again. He allowed his family to try and comfort him. He took a renewed interest in Sammy’s life, and he tried to live. Eventually the trying became just doing, and Lee Webb became a pleasant memory._

“Earth to Dean!”

Dean furrowed his brow at the confused looking IT specialist. “Sorry Charlie, I guess I kinda zoned out.”

“Thinking about Cas’s ass?”

Dean laughed. “No, not that. But it is a fine ass.”

Charlie smiled. “Okay, so explain to me again why it’s a bad idea?”

Dean sighed. “You know why, what I do doesn’t leave much room for people like Cas.”

“People like Cas?”

“Yeah, you know, normal people who deserve the entire world, not some alcoholic Chosen One.”

Charlie punched him in the arm. “You’re not allowed to insult yourself while I’m here, dumbass. You’re fucking fantastic man. I mean, I love you! And I just don’t love everyone.”

Dean smiled sadly, “I know.”

“So, no negative bullshit. But I’ll give you a pass on not making a move on him tonight. I mean you got, what, a year to fix it?”

Dean glared at her. “Roommate, Charlie, nothing more.”

She smirked as she un-paused the movie. “We’ll see. And I don’t know, maybe you should let people make their own choices about whether or not they want to be in your life.”

Dean stared at her, mouth open, but she was paying him zero attention because Black Widow had just made her screen debut.

*******

“This is overwhelming.”

Castiel Novak stood in the middle of a space staged to look like a bedroom. Claire stood beside him, looking around at the furniture with various tags on it written in a language neither young woman nor professor could fully understand.

“It’s cheap, Cas. And you just needed a desk, right?”

“Well, yes, but don’t all of these items have to be assembled? I am not very handy with tools.”

“I figured Dean could put it together for you.” Claire shrugged as she began to walk, making her uncle move to keep up with her.

“Dean is not my handyman, Claire, nor do I intend for him to put a piece of furniture together for me.”

“But, he’s a friend, right? Friends help friends with tools.” Claire smirked as she kept walking around the giant store.

“I wouldn’t say friends, not yet anyway.” Cas stopped in front of a very simple desk with a glass top. He noticed the metal, minimal screws, and what he assumed would be very simple assembly instructions.

“What about this one?”

Claire walked over to him and shrugged. “Sure, I mean, it looks like even you could put this thing together.”

Her uncle scowled at her as she wrote down the number on the little slip of paper the store provided.

The duo was able to put the desk, bookshelf, and three houseplants in the back of Claire’s Toyota. They were fortunate the back seats folded down and the vehicle was a hatchback, another thing Cas insisted on.

“We’re gonna have to get you some tools. Like one of those kits or something.”

Castiel looked at his niece dryly, “Don’t you think Dean has tools?”

Claire smirked as she glanced at her uncle quickly before pulling into a parking space at Home Depot. “Do you really want Dean to think you don’t have your own set of tools, I mean, he's already assuming you can _assemble_ stuff right?”

Cas sighed as he got out of the car. He smiled slightly as he gently shook his head back and forth. He engulfed Claire in a hug she jokingly tried to escape. 

“I adore you for this sweetheart, I do, but you know far too well I can’t ruin that man’s life.”

Claire pushed him off her and studied his sad blue eyes that she saw every time she looked in the mirror.

“Cas, that’s not true. You’re fucking amazing. I don’t care about what you know, or what you do. You told me about it, and I’m glad. I can protect myself now, you protect me too. Don’t you get it? You don’t ruin lives just because you’re not normal. You make lives better, dumbass.”

She didn’t give him an opportunity to argue as she hastily stomped towards the entrance of the hardware store. With a sigh that overcame his whole body, Cas followed his niece. 

One cheap toolkit later they were back in the car heading towards Claire’s extended stay motel.

A pizza sat on the coffee table between them as Claire had her legs crossed underneath her looking at her uncle expectantly. “Well, what’s he want?”

Cas rolled his eyes in jest as he smirked at the girl. “He wants us to come to dinner Monday night.”

Claire looked mildly impressed. “He cooks?”

Cas shrugged as he put his phone next to the pizza box. “Apparently.”

“Well, did you say we’d go?”

“Of course.”

“I hope he cooks well because otherwise you’ll starve.”

“I know how to cook, Claire.”

“Cas, you burned a frozen pizza.”

“The instructions were unclear.”

Claire just blinked at him.

*******

Dean had never put so much care into a lasagna in his life. He made sure every noodle and layer were meticulously arranged. He wanted the cheese on top to bubble and brown in such a fashion that it would be Instagram worthy (not that he knew anything about that).

He also made a salad, because Sam. And from Cas’s normal breakfast choices he figured the blue-eyed man was also somewhat health conscious. He figured Claire was just like him, the more bacon the better.

_Pie._ He simply texted Sam three hours before the newlyweds were supposed to show up to his house.

_Dude._ He texted back. Dean smiled, knowing it was an affirmative all on its own.

Jess and Sam got to Dean’s house at 6:45, because of course they did. Sam let himself and his wife in with his key. He had a messenger bag on his shoulder and a chocolate méringue pie in his hand.

Dean came out of the kitchen and immediately gave Jess a hug. Sam breathed out a laugh as he went to put the pie on the kitchen counter.

“How’d you put up with Sammy for a whole week by yourself?”

Jess hung her bag on the hook next to the door after Dean stepped back. “It wasn’t easy. Did you know his hair products took up a whole carry-on?”

Dean laughed, with his new sister-in-law following suit.

“I’m serious though Dean, like a whole bag.”

“I know Jess, remember I’ve been his big brother for thirty-six years now.”

Sam came back out of the kitchen and looked at the table. “Dean, this is nice. Like, you even took out the Thanksgiving tablecloth.”

“Yeah, well, we are having company.” Dean blushed as Sam and Jess shared knowing looks.

A knock on the door caused Dean to tense with a slight case of nerves. What if Cas didn’t like his cooking? He steadied himself and opened the door.

Cas was wearing dress slacks, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a dark blue tie that did a fairly good job at matching his eyes. The tie was put on in such a way the ends were turned the wrong way. Dean smiled slightly as his nervousness vanished at the sight of the other man. He instinctively reached to fix Cas’s tie.

Cas didn’t move as Dean expertly fixed his tie. Their eyes met and a warmth and familiarity along with a need to be in each other’s orbit spread throughout them. Their gaze was interrupted when Claire pushed past her uncle into the house.

“Hey Dean.”

“Hey kid.” Dean replied, looking down at the floor before quickly shifting his gaze back to Castiel.

“Cas.”

The blue-eyed man simply met his gaze again and smiled fondly. “Your food smells amazing, Dean.”

“Thanks, uh, come in.” Dean stepped out of the way, allowing Castiel entrance.

Dean closed the door behind him and started walking towards the dining room where Sam and Jess were already seated.

Sam looked up first, shock registering in his hazel eyes. “Dr. Novak?”

Cas narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in the most adorable expression Dean had ever seen.

“Sam and Jessica?”

Jessica smiled brightly. “No fucking way!”

Dean allowed confusion to overtake his handsome features as he looked back and forth between Cas and his brother. “Uh, what’s going on here?”

Sam sat back and chuckled. “Dr. Novak is only the best professor at Stanford, Dean.”

Cas inclined his head towards the floor. “That is a nice sentiment, Sam, but hardly true.”

“No, you... Jess and I took three of your classes, and they weren’t even required for our tracks. Like, you’re a rock star there.”

Dean excused himself as he went to go get the lasagna from the kitchen.

He used his forearms to lean against the counter, allowing the weighty feeling to overtake his mind. Of course, Cas was some superstar at fucking Stanford. He scoffed. He had told himself he wasn’t gonna take a chance with Cas, but it was different knowing he never even had one. He turned around when he felt a presence behind him.

Claire handed him a bottle of red wine. “Cas bought this for dinner. I think it’s supposed to breathe or whatever.”

Dean took it gingerly and started opening drawers looking for his corkscrew.

“He’s not really like that, ya know?”

Dean shot her a questioning glance before once more continuing his search for the corkscrew.

“Like, yeah, his students love him, and he’s really smart, and shit, but he doesn’t think of himself that way.”

Dean found the tool and got to work opening the bottle, listening intently to Claire all the while.

“He’s basically my dad, and he’s given up so much for me. He didn’t have to do any of that. He’s never felt that he’s good enough.”

“He’s awesome.” Dean let slip out, he winced.

Claire smiled and nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty great, but he doesn’t think so. I just don’t want you to think he’s too good for you or something stupid like that.”

Dean chuckled. “Claire, he’s just gonna be my roommate, I don’t think…”

“Dean, I’m not stupid. Just don’t feel inferior or whatever.”

Dean nodded as he handed the young woman four wine glasses. “Thanks for caring kiddo.”

She smiled as Cas came waltzing into the kitchen all grace as if he had lived there all his life.

“Can I help with something, Dean?”

“Were they overwhelming you out there?”

Cas looked slightly uncomfortable. “Sam won’t stop calling me Dr. Novak.”

Dean laughed as he patted Cas’s back, the electricity present as soon as his hand touched the other man. “I’ll tell him to knock it off, Cas. Can you grab the wine, man?”

Dean leveled his brother with the Winchester stare as soon as everyone was served. “Sammy, stop calling Cas Dr. Novak.”

“Dean, he was my professor, I can’t just call him _Cas_.”

“You can, Sam, it is fine.” The professor himself interjected.

“Oh my gosh, Dean, Cas’s scores on rate my professor were off the charts. And his hotness score? Whew.” Jess got out before taking her first bite of lasagna. She seemed to have far less of a problem calling Castiel Cas than Sam did.

Claire chuckled slightly, shoving a big forkful of salad into her mouth.

“Right? That’s why we took his class in the first place.” Sam was on a roll and even the big brother stare would not shut him up.

“Jess and I needed a humanities class for gen ed requirements, and we thought we’d take one together, so we researched.”

“Nerd.” Dean mumbled.

“Anyway,” Sam continued, “Dr. Novak’s introduction to religious studies class was so highly rated we couldn’t pass that opportunity up. And we loved it so much we took some of his other classes too, mythological creatures in the Greek and Roman societies, and another more advanced religious studies class.”

Cas smiled at Dean in the most embarrassed fashion a person could possibly muster.

Between forkfuls of Dean's cooking Jess piped up once more, “And at least one hundred students commented on his blue eyes. Which did not disappoint.”

Dean looked at his future roommate and smiled. “They are pretty fabulous, Cas.”

The man looked down at his plate, “Thank you, Dean.”

“What are you doing in Atlanta, Dr. Novak?”

Cas looked up at Sam. “I am on sabbatical for the next school year in order to focus on writing.”

Sam nodded. “The kids are gonna be pissed your classes won’t be offered.”

“I will miss teaching, but sabbaticals are not too commonly offered.”

Cas was finally able to take a bite of his food. He was momentarily distracted by the pleasurable sensations the food created on his tongue. “Dean, this is incredible.”

The green-eyed man smiled so proudly at Cas’s enjoyment of his cooking. “Thanks, Cas.”

“This is by far the best lasagna I have ever eaten. Thank you for inviting us to share a meal with your family, I appreciate it very much.”

Every single person at the table stared at Dean as his cheeks became pink with flushing. Cas’s compliments got to him like none other. They just meant so much coming from him.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, man, of course.”

“Cas burns everything.” Claire offered with such nonchalance everyone except her uncle giggled.

“I do not burn everything, Claire.”

The young blonde woman shrugged. “You did manage to make that salad that one time.”

“So, Dr. Novak is your Uncle?”

Claire looked at Sam. “You really can call him Cas, Sam. And yeah, he’s an okay one too, I mean, to be so old.”

She loved making her uncle glare at her.

“Congratulations on your wedding, it is very rewarding to see such a devoted couple marry. I very rarely have a chance to see what becomes of my students, this has been an unexpected pleasure.”

Sam took Jess’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Thank you, Doc – Cas, that means a lot. I promise the whole awe of seeing you here at my old house with my brother will wear off, it’s just, you were my favorite professor, and I kinda just always put you above everyone else, like on a pedestal or something.”

“Well, Sam, people or things that are put on pedestals have a tendency to fall off.” Cas smiled sadly with a look of experience. 

“So, you uh, teach religious studies and mythology?”

Cas smiled slightly at Dean, the sadness no longer in the expression, “Yes, I am overly familiar with the creatures of heaven, hell, and everywhere in-between.”

Sam risked a glance at his brother, who caught his gaze and quickly directed his eyes back to Cas.

“Awesome.” 

*******

Claire and Jess offered to do the dinner dishes as Sam, Cas, and Dean went over the rental agreement.

Dean looked as if he was about to fall asleep while Sam read all the legalities of it. Cas appeared to take an interest in it, but he trusted Sam to be competent, as the man proved to be overly so in his classes. Advanced religious studies is not a particularly easy class and Sam soared through with knowledge uncommon amongst people his age, or people in general.

With a few signatures, Cas was all set to live in Dean Winchester’s house for a grand total of fifteen months. The cash was handed to the green-eyed man and a receipt was written by the hazel-eyed one. All in all, it was a very easy transaction.

After Dean had put the cash away in the safe he kept in his bedroom closet, he was ready for pie. Jess brought it to the table along with a pot of coffee.

Cas kept stealing glances as Dean bestowed a good deal of admiration to his pie. He almost felt like a voyeur watching the man enjoy something so much. The noises the pie elicited from his new landlord made Castiel envious of the confection. He wished he could bake so he could make something Dean enjoyed that much. And just like that, Castiel Novak had a new goal. He put the two books he was contracted to write out of his mind, all his obligations seemed to fall by the wayside in light of the newfound much more important task of learning to bake pie. Because Castiel wanted to make those noises come from Dean’s mouth in any way he could, multiple ways maybe.

*******

Claire and Cas left with the promise they would be there at ten the next morning to move Cas in.

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed as he hit his brother on the back.

“What?”

“You and Dr. Novak? Holy shit!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “He’s just my roommate Sammy, that’s it.”

Jess plopped down on the couch. “You two are so hot for each other. I felt embarrassed for his niece.”

Dean sat next to her. “We’ve been over this, it ain’t gonna happen.”

Jess and Sam shared a knowing smile. “Yeah right.”

“Sammy, you are the one who said he is a rock star back at Stanford, and you think I’m gonna fuck that up?”

“Dean, think about it. Think about what he teaches.”

Dean scoffed. “Theory and practice are two very different things, Sam.”

Sam shrugged. “I’m just sayin’, he’d probably be one of the few who would understand.”

Dean leaned towards his brother who was occupying one of the living room’s armchairs. “He is practically a dad to Claire, there’s no way in hell I’m endangering his life, no way I’m making that girl lose the man that means the most to her. You understand?”

Sam sighed. “I get it, Dean, I do, but…”

“Sam, drop it.”

Sam furrowed his brow at his wife.

“Dean has his reasons. Even though there is fuckton of sexual tension between them, even though they are obviously impressed by each other, it doesn’t matter because Dean won’t let Dr. Novak make his own decisions.”

That was the second time in the span of four days similar sentiments were expressed to the eldest Winchester, and he was somewhat moved by the implications of the words, but not enough to change his mind completely.

“I’m protecting him Jess. And I’ve only known him a few days anyway, I mean there’s jumping the gun and then there’s whatever the fuck this is.”

“Okay, just hear me out…”

Dean turned his eyes towards his brother.

“I told Jess about our life after a year because it was driving more of a wedge between us than anything else. So yeah, I told her everything, let her make her own decision about me, about everything. And Dean, you encouraged me to do that. But, I – I get it, you’ve only known Cas a few days and its only attraction at this point. Get to know him, see what happens, but don’t completely rule out the possibility of maybe telling him at some point, okay?”

Dean took his brother’s words to heart, and in all honesty he wasn’t wrong. He didn’t know what this was with Cas, but he thought it had the potential to be something. Maybe, possibly. He knew their hug was something, he knew it was something real, something true, something that made him feel so safe, warm, cared for, important, that it had to be the realest thing he ever felt. And the compliment that Cas just casually laid on him like it wasn’t the most heartfelt thing Dean ever experienced in his life had to mean something. But there was time to see if it was in fact, something. That was way too many emotions to just express, however, so Dean covered with humor, something the man was exceptional at.

“You just want your professor-crush to be your brother-in-law.”

“Fuck yeah I do!”

Dean laughed as Jess emphasized her exclamation by hitting him in the stomach with a throw pillow. Sam shook his head with a smile, all the while hoping his brother could be as happy as he was someday soon.

*******

In a room inexplicably white, the sterility causing an overwhelming feeling of nausea in the Guardian, a prim woman with a hard stare examines a file-folder in front of her. The Guardian sitting opposite is unable to feign interest in whatever she is attempting to tantalize him with. He much prefers to just be handed the folder and dole out assignments. He refills the glass in his hand with an amber liquid he pours from the ether. He swirls the contents before sipping, drawing ire from the woman at the pristine desk.

“Must you drink that here?” She asks, voice taunt with irritation.

“Yes.” He answers simply, a smug smile breaking through his set face. Blonde stubble frames his smirk, and he takes another sip keeping eye contact with the woman.

Her face rests in a type of permanent exasperation, and the Guardian is pleased for having evoked that look.

“This is not a normal level of disturbance, something big is happening here, you should be more respectful to the office I hold.”

“No, I really shouldn’t.” Crows feet crinkle in an expression formed from a fake smile.

“I need your contact.”

“Oh, definitely not.”

She places her hands on the desk, folded into one another, clasped, creating the illusion of control.

“They are important, I know your contact has provided insight in the past.”

“Undoubtedly. But, you see, there’s just one thing…”

Just like the Guardian knows she will, she takes the bait.

“Which is?”

“The contact is just as you said, mine. And they will remain that way.” He takes another sip of the amber liquid.

‘We have the names of the Chosen, we can make you talk.”

“Oh.” He leans as far back in his seat as possible and tries to appear as if he is contemplating something in the most dramatic fashion possible. “Let me see if I understand you correctly. You are threatening God’s Chosen few because you believe I have some sort of emotional connection with them as their Guardian. Might I remind you, love, they are God’s Chosen, and God is the only being I answer to? Go ahead, threaten them all you want, kill them. I couldn’t possibly care any less. However, I’m sure He will, and I do love his divine sense of justice. Remember the pillar of salt?” With a raised eyebrow in a questioning glance, he rises to take his leave.

“Wait!”

With a look equaling boredom the Guardian halts, waiting for the prudish woman in the pantsuit to tell him whatever it is she thinks needs to be said.

“You misunderstood me.”

He makes a non-committal noise, in the attempt to make her realize he knows he did not.

“I wish for you to understand the gravity of this disturbance and not be flippant where this is concerned. If you will not give up your contact, fine. But we ask that you give them this.”

She hands him the file folder. He takes it casually, not bothering to look inside.

“Are you quite finished?”

With a look that resembles disgust she nods, and the Guardian vanishes.

In a bar in Paris that is much more suited to his tastes than the oppressive sterility the woman inhabits, the Guardian opens the folder. He traces his fingers over the seismograph and mutters:

“Oh Cassie, where are you?”


	4. Rings of Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Void makes a move. Cas moves in. Dean puts together furniture and cooks breakfast. Cas gets a surprise visitor and then has to go to the hospital. He also makes a call to a certain angel, and the Void can't leave well enough alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! This chapter is kind of a long one as I just had so many things I wanted to put in there. I really do hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kudos, comments, subscriptions, and bookmarks!! They mean so much to me as the author of this story. It warms my heart to see the comments in my inbox, along with the kudos and the bookmarks/subscriptions! If y'all ever want to see something specific in this story please just let me know! Thank you all so much again!!
> 
> I do not own Supernatural or any other TV Show, book, movie, song, website, and/or app mentioned in this tale. 
> 
> The images in this chapter were obtained from https://www.eastonpress.com/prod/BF2/3336/BEOWULF---Deluxe-Illustrated-Edition . The edition they have of Beowulf is incredibly awesome. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!

With a look invoking the goddess of ennui, the Void takes a packet of tobacco out of his smoking jacket pocket and begins to fill his pipe, allowing the minion nearest him to strike a match to light it. He rolls his dark brown eyes languidly as the minion fumbles with the match in such an inadequate fashion that she causes the flame to flicker dangerously close to extinguishment. He draws from the pipe deeply and blows smoke in a succession of rings from his thin lips, the rings wafting away into the nothingness over him.

His eyes move slowly along the bodies in front of him. One eyebrow raises on his forehead as he settles upon a minion whose form materialized into what appeared to be a fiftyish human male with salt and pepper hair. His beard was of the same shade, his hairline was receding, and his face was round. His full lips were perpetually glistening, a feature that disgusts the Creature. The Void draws taunt cheeks in even further as he visually regards the minion; his eyes narrow in scrutiny. With a long finger he beckons the cretin to approach his ornate chair.

“Yes Sir?” He blubbers through the moist lips, causing the Void to sneer. The minion’s tone is not one of complete awe, which fills the Void with further contempt for the human form in front of him. The cretin will be ideal for this particular task.

Smoke rings rise as the Void addresses the minion, his voice even with indifference. “You are to complete a task.”

“Sir?” The minion bows his head and looks through lashes in a display of feigned respect.

“Gather intelligence from earth.” He rises from his chair and stands, towering, over the form in front of him. With a hand extended into the nothingness in front of him, he produces a folder and hands it to the minion. “Your instructions are in here.”

Before the human looking lower creature can utter a word the Void waves his forefinger in a lazy small circle and the minion disappears. The Void sits once more, a very slight smile tugging on the left-hand corner of his mouth.

*******

“Fuck!”

Dean rushed to Cas’s room as he heard a series of clangs, crashes, and a string of deep-voiced cusses. His hand hovers over the door paneling a few moments before he decided to knock.

Claire opens the door, flathead screwdriver in hand, and nods at Dean.

“Hey.”

Dean looks into the room to see Cas sitting on the ground with a long piece of glass on his lap and metal rods scattered around him.

“Uh, you two okay?”

Cas looks to him, apology and frustration mixed in a sea of blue.

“I apologize, Dean. These instructions are not very well thought out.”

Dean nods, a laugh hiding behind a very slight smile. “Yeah, that uh, Ikea furniture can be quite a job. I can help, you know, if you want?”

Cas looks to his niece, who has a knowing smile in her eyes.

“I feel that I should not ask for your help, on top of it being inappropriate, it is also embarrassing.”

Dean walked over to him and crouched in front of him, all thousand-watt smile and charm.

“It’s neither of those things, Cas.”

Dean takes the papers from Cas’s hands, their fingers mildly brushing against one another. Dean made eye contact with the man sitting mere inches from him, unconsciously licked the corner of his mouth and looked back to the instructions.

“Okay, yeah, so we need a Phillips head screwdriver. Uh, kid, can you hand me a number two Phillips head from that kit there?”

Claire just stared at him. “What?”

Cas sighed as he untangled himself from the mess on the floor. “I can hand you the appropriate tools, Dean.” Cas wasn’t going to admit researching the various tools in the kit his niece made him buy, but he did at least have a working knowledge of what was in fact, what.

“Awesome, Cas. We’ll get this done in no time.”

“Well, if you two don’t need me anymore, I’ll be going.” Claire grabbed her bag off the bed before heading out the door. “Bye, Cas, bye, Dean.”

“Bye kid.”

“Good-bye Claire, be careful.”

With a playful roll of her eyes, the blonde bounced out the room.

Cas handed Dean the correct screwdriver. “I cannot thank you enough for this, Dean. My knowledge of assembling furniture is very limited.”

“Well, so’s my knowledge of teaching a bunch of college kids, so, we’re even.”

Cas watched Dean’s muscles as he built the furniture, his biceps flexing underneath his white t-shirt.

Dean caught his gaze and smirked, “Crescent wrench, Cas?”

Dean made sure their fingers grazed one another for longer than was necessary as he took the tool from Cas’s long fingers. Cas looked at him with surprise through long black lashes.

“As far as thanking me, you could always take me out for pie.” Dean shrugged, so as to play off the obvious implications of a _date_. I mean, there was nothing wrong with two roommates going to get pie together, was there?

Cas smirked and nodded, his eyes admiring each flex as Dean used the wrench to tighten a bolt on the desk’s leg.

“I would enjoy that very much, Dean.”

“See? Ain’t no worries about thanking me then Cas. I’m an easy man to please.”

Both men blushed as their eyes went to the floor before meeting the other’s gaze.

Dean had the desk assembled in ten minutes and looked at the bookshelf box. He smiled faintly as he began opening the long ends.

“I missed having a shit ton of books in the house.”

Cas looked at Dean admiringly. “Sam?”

“Oh, yeah. Kid is just so smart, you know?”

Cas hummed in agreement, “Yes, I do know.”

“Yeah, so I uh, we I guess, stayed in California while Sammy was in college, and then he got a good gig here right after he graduated law school. This was our family home for a while, my mom moved out, and Sammy and I moved back in. Jess too. But, they bought their own place after they got engaged.”

Dean hauled the metal shelves and side pieces out one by one and leaned them against the blank space on the wall. He opened the bag that contained the screws.

“Phillips head again, Cas.”

Cas put the tool in Dean’s outstretched hand, his fingers tracing the inside of Dean’s wrist before lowering his hand to his side.

Dean cleared his throat slightly and resumed talking as he began screwing the boards together.

“When Sam and Jess stayed here they had so many books. Jess is a doctor, and she always had to study, just like Sammy. There were two full-size bookcases in here.” Dean paused as a type of laugh escaped his nostrils. “I built those too.”

“Those two would leave their shit everywhere and I can’t count the times I would find an article about capital punishment or some type of new tapeworm.” Dean made a disgusted face.

Cas marveled at the man’s voice, it was like honey swirling in bourbon, and Cas was intoxicated.

“I’m guessing the shit you’re gonna leave around will be way more interesting.”

“I am a very tidy person, Dean.”

Fuck, Dean went weak in the knees every time the man said his name. He said it like a prayer, and Dean’s name was reverent on his lips. And how the hell did the nerdy professor make such a weird statement so damn sexy?

“Oh, I got no doubt you’re cleaner than Sam and Jess, man.”

Cas went over to one of the suitcases he packed, which was as full of books as the airlines would allow. He unzipped it, the noise prompting Dean to turn around.

“Most of my books are contemporary pieces on criticisms of lore, but I have a few special volumes I can’t be too long without.” He takes a copy of _Beowulf_ from a mesh compartment inside the suitcase and walks over to Dean, who had completely abandoned his work at that point, entranced by the way Cas held the book out to him, as if it were holy.

Dean took it gingerly, opening it, brushing his fingers across the gilded edges and tracing the beautiful illustrations with his calloused fingers.

Cas looked fondly at the man as he gave the book as much respect as Cas had.

“That is a limited-edition copy of _Beowulf_ , one of my favorite stories of Literature. I suppose it could have to do with the fact the work revolves around slaying monsters.”

Dean looked at him with a sense of admiration and almost a _longing_? But not the type of longing that was usually present in his eyes when he regarded Cas, but a longing of a different type, a type that Cas didn’t fully understand. Dean’s eyes went back to the book. “It’s beautiful, Cas.”

“Thank you. It was a present my twin, Jimmy, gave me on our thirtieth birthday. He was the only one in our family that understood my line of work.”

Dean’s eyes glistened as he handed the book back to Cas as if it were a fragile piece of hand-blown glass.

“You need a handmade shelf for that book, Cas. Like outta walnut or something.”

Cas smiled as he held the book to his chest. “You are very kind, Dean. However, I believe this Ikea shelf will be adequate, especially since you are the one building it.”

Dean chuckled as he once more went back to his work. “Yeah, yeah, hand me a ¼ inch socket with the ratchet, would ya? Let’s get some books back into this house.”

*******

The day after Cas moved in, he woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. With a dark blue robe thrown over a light gray t-shirt and boxers, he stumbled his way into the kitchen, unfamiliar with his surroundings.

“Mornin’ Sunshine!” Dean offers gleefully as Cas regards him with half-opened eyelids.

“Morning, Dean. Are you cooking breakfast?”

“Sure am. There’s a mug in front of the coffee maker, sugar next to it, and creamer on third shelf in the fridge.”

Cas grunts as he fills the mug Dean laid out for him. “You are far too good for this world.”

Dean laughs at the muttered compliment. Truth is, he would enjoy cooking breakfast for Cas every day for the rest of his life. He tries not to focus on the bare part of Cas’s legs his robe leaves exposed. Dean learned pretty early on in his roommate adventures with Sam Winchester that the two should be appropriately dressed as soon as they emerge from the bedrooms. Sam had found Jess early on in life, but Dean went through a few one-night encounters before and after Lee, and Sam felt that he was objectified one too many times. And Sam may also have been a tiny bit jealous of Jess seeing Dean’s near perfect physique. So, the rule was t-shirts and full-length pajama pants.

“Nothing’s too good for you, buddy. How do you like your eggs?”

Cas made a non-committal, tired noise before he finally went with, “Cooked by you.”

Dean blushed, his cheeks warming.

Cas leaned against the counter, mug in-between his hands. He watched Dean’s back muscles move underneath his shirt as the other man prepared their food. He hoped Dean did not feel any sense of obligation towards him, but he couldn’t help admitting to himself that he would not mind if this was part of his morning routine for the rest of his life. The man in front of him was so kind, so beautiful, so fucking sexy. How could someone’s ass look so appealing in pajama pants?

Castiel Novak wanted nothing more than to run his hands up and down Dean’s back, distracting him from his task in all the best ways.

Dean felt Cas’s eyes on him, and Charlie and Jess’s words kept replaying in his mind. Could Cas like him even knowing about his _life_? Should he give him a chance? Well, maybe he could kinda feel Cas out over their non-date, see if Cas may actually want something.

Cas thought about what Claire said about being glad she knew about Cas’s life. Claire was his family though, he had to protect her as best he could because she was going to be in his life, there were no options. With Dean, this man didn’t have to be dragged into anything. Castiel sighed as he forced his gaze away from Dean’s back, which grew suddenly cold.

Dean put two pieces of toast, two sunny-side-up eggs, and four pieces of bacon on each plate. He smiled at Cas as he nodded to the stool on the other side of the kitchen island. They sat across from each other. Cas noticed a jar of apple butter in front of his plate.

“You bought apple butter for me?”

“Well, yeah, you seemed to like it, and I uh thought you might enjoy it at your new home. Even if it's not your home forever, I mean, I know it’s not much but moving into a new place can be…” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Cas smiled softly at him and placed a hand on top of the hand Dean had resting on the counter. Both men felt the pull immediately and looked at each other intently. “This is a very kind gesture, Dean. The breakfast, the apple butter, everything. You are very kind, and I have not received such warm and inviting treatment from anyone, ever.”

Cas removed his hand and picked up his fork.

Dean cleared his throat and did the same. “I made the yolks a little runny, I hope that’s okay.” He watched as Cas tore off a piece of his toast and dipped it into the rich yellow of the egg.

“It is perfect.”

*******

Dean had to work the last three days of the week at the garage and Cas filled his time with looking up easy pie recipes and researching for his books. He created detailed instructions in order to make a fool-proof confection. He decides his first attempt will be with cherries. He knows they are going to be in season, and fruit is meaningful and symbolic. As is chocolate, but he had fifteen months. Cas planned for their pie date to be at home, surprising Dean when he got home one day.

Cas knew it was terribly domestic, and he knew he would be reaching for a lot. But after that breakfast, where Dean seemed to enjoy cooking for him, he thought maybe a couple dates wouldn’t hurt. And maybe Claire was right, maybe he wouldn’t ruin Dean’s life. Their chemistry was palpable. Cas felt Dean’s absence, which never occurred with another being in his life.

It was on Friday, after getting back from a shopping trip with Claire, while Cas was doing research on Two-toed Tom and rifling through potential interview prospects when there was a knock on the door. Cas narrowed his eyes at the door in scrutiny, as if the offender would simply leave, but the knocking was continued, and Cas reluctantly left his spot on the couch to answer the door.

The man on the other side was at least seven inches shorter than Castiel. His hair and beard shared the same salt-and pepper hue.

“Can I help you?” Cas inquired, after the man offered no input.

“Uh, yes, I am Marv. And I am here to interview you about your upcoming projects for the Atlanta Journal Constitution, or AJC.” His attempt at a smile sent a chill through Castiel.

“My upcoming projects?”

“Yes, your books.”

Castiel let out a ‘hum’ as he regarded the other man. Aside from his superiors and colleagues at Stanford, Claire, Dean and his family, he had no idea how anyone else could know of his projects.

“What books?” Cas feigned ignorance, trying to feel his way around this man’s story.

“Um…” The man nervously thumbed through a notebook he had in his hands. “Oh, I have credentials, would you like to see them?”

Cas nodded, tired. Marv handed him a press badge with his face on it.

Cas raised an eyebrow as he opened the door wider, allowing the older man inside.

“Thank you, sir. It’s an honor to meet you Dr. Novak, I’ve followed your work for quite a while.”

“Mmm-hum…” Cas’s suspicions were definitely raised as he closed the door behind him, but he thought it best to not raise suspicions in Dean’s neighborhood. The last thing that wonderful man needed was Cas bringing his problems to Dean’s literal doorstep.

“What type of interview were you hoping for…Marv?”

Cas walked to where he would be in front of the shorter man, eyes still narrowed, arms crossed in front of him, and head tilted.

“Well, we were hoping to feel out your life here, meet your inspiration. Which I’ve heard…” Marv indicates for Cas to bend down to his level in order to whisper in his ear. With as intense an eye roll as he can muster, the professor complies.

“Is in the form of a six foot, two inch green -eyed mechanic, and the height alone, whew. Makes one wonder if everything is proportional, size wise.” Then the little shit winked at him.

That was it, Cas snapped. But it was Cas, so the snap even was controlled; his deep voice becoming even deeper, dangerous, but still in full control of his body.

“Okay, Marv. How the fuck did you get my address?”

“Your university gave it to me.”

“Bullshit.”

Cas was suddenly looking into eyes that were nothing, just two deep voids of nothingness. Merv reached a hand up to Cas’s shoulder and effortlessly lowered the professor to his knees.

Cas looked up at him with anger burning in his eyes, along with a dose of fear.

“Oh, calm down Cas. I know all about you, I’ve seen pictures of you in this position tons of times. But you were enjoying it then.”

Cas felt bile rise in his throat as he struggled vainly to stand, the creature’s hand holding him in place.

“My boss…” Marv said ‘boss’ in such a sarcastic way Cas was surprised whoever was in charge of this creature didn’t show up right then and smite him. “Sent me here to gather intel. But, I thought, why do that when I can just eliminate any future problem right now?”

His fist connected with Cas’s face, making the man turn his head with the blow. Blood immediately filled his mouth as he felt his cheek connect with his teeth.

While Marv was monologuing, Cas subtly reached behind him and pulled a long, silver-looking blade from a holster wrapped around his lower leg. Before Marv could deliver the second blow, Cas plunged the end of the blade into Marv’s chest, causing the creature to lose its form and turn into a puddle of what looked like slime. Cas put the blade back in his holster and stood, stretching out his limbs.

He walked around the puddle to inspect it, and knelt down in front of it, his back to the door.

Dean stood blinking at the contraption that was parked beside the spot Baby occupied. He knew what it was the second he saw it, a 1978 Lincoln Continental Mark V, he just never thought he would see it in his driveway. He wondered who the hell Cas had visiting. He shoved the jealously down, he had no right to be jealous, but he wasn’t gonna let that monstrosity get off that easily. Whoever was driving it was gonna get made some serious fun of. He didn’t want to be cruel, but some good-natured fun was totally fine.

Dean opened the door haphazardly, figuring it would be unlocked from whoever Cas had visiting. He was halfway yelling, thinking the man would be in the living room, “Cas, what the hell is parked in our driveway?”

Dean was strong, and the solid wood door caused the creature kneeling in front of it to be knocked completely over.

Castiel tried to catch himself using his hands, but his hands slipped in the remnants of Marv. Consequently, he face-planted into the goo, his forehead hitting so hard against the wood floor that his skull bounced.

“Cas, oh, fuck!” Dean immediately knelt beside him, trying to help him sit up.

Cas was covered in Marv, blood streaming down from a gash on his eyebrow and intermingling with the muck.

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean went to the kitchen and came back with a towel and began gently wiping Cas’s face.

“What the fuck is this, Cas?”

Castiel Novak had two options: come clean or lie like a dog.

He went with the latter. “I made slime.”

Dean’s face scrunched up with bewilderment. “What?”

Cas found his speech impeded by the towel and put a gentle Marv-covered hand on Dean’s wrist, stopping his action.

“I read it was calming, and I followed a YouTube instructional video. I needed to funnel my energy into research, and I thought creating and playing with the slime would help as a brain palate cleanser, so to speak.”

Dean was ninety-eight percent sure Cas had a concussion. “Okay, buddy. So, I’m gonna finish cleaning you up, and we’re gonna get you to the hospital because this cut needs stitches, maybe from a plastic surgeon, even. We don’t want this beautiful face of yours fucked up do we?”

He smiled, trying to put some levity into the situation.

“Of course, Dean. But can we put this into a container as well?”

Dean faltered, “You, uh, you want to salvage the slime, buddy?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Okay, man, I’ll be right back, okay?”

Dean scrambled through his cabinets to quickly grab Cas a Tupperware container for his slime before he went to get some towels to clean the man up.

He tossed the container to Cas on his way to the bathroom closet.

Aside from the part of Marv that was covering him, the remainder of the creature was easily placed into the container. It all stayed in one cohesive unit. Cas was amazed by the viscosity of it, he had never seen or read about anything like it.

Dean was one hundred percent sure Cas was concussed when he walked back into the foyer to see Cas shaking the slime in the Tupperware. He approached the man with precision, kindness, and care.

“Hey, buddy, I’m just gonna finish cleaning you up real quick. I brought you a t-shirt and sweats from your room, too, and we’re just gonna put those clothes you have on, in this plastic bag okay?”

Cas nodded. Dean obviously thought he was compromised from his injury, and Cas really couldn’t blame him. He let the other man nurture him, surprised at how gentle those calloused hands were. Cas only felt the tiniest bit guilty as he allowed Dean to help him in and out of his clothes, his skin heating at the touch of Dean’s hands.

Fuck! The blade!

Cas stopped him before he reached his pants.

Dean backed up immediately, his hands practically flying away from the button and fly of Cas’s jeans. Cas felt guilty for what Dean must have taken as a lack of consent.

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

“No, Dean, it’s fine, you are helping me, it’s all okay. I just have to go to the restroom anyway, so it might be easier if I change my pants in there?”

Dean nodded. “Of course, man, but I’m just gonna stand outside the door in case you need anything, okay?”

Cas nodded. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean allowed his forehead to rest outside the bathroom wall. He was not proud of all the feelings that seemed to rush downward when he helped Cas change his shirt. He almost thought Cas could feel his _want_ when he began to unbutton the other man’s pants, and his first inclination was to think Cas didn’t want him back at all when he stopped him. But, fuck, Dean was an idiot, the man was concussed for crying out loud, and even if he did _want_ Dean back, this was most definitely not the time to act on that. That would be taking advantage, one thing Dean Winchester never did.

Cas came out of the bathroom, sweats low on his hips, and Dean had to swallow and look away. The drawstring was loose.

Okay, so Cas left it loose on purpose.

Dean looked at the string and back up at Cas’s eyes, one of which was swollen.

“Cas, you gotta tie your pants, man, or they’ll fall off.”

“What?”

Okay, Cas was sure he was going to hell at this point.

“Fuck, Cas, here.”

Cas’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling with suddenly increased breathing as Dean reached out and tied Cas’s pants with a perfect bow Martha Stewart would’ve been proud of. Their bodies were almost flush against one another. Cas looked up at the man in front of him, all pain pushed toward the back of his mind as he stared at perfect dark pink lips. Lips he wanted to feel everywhere. His heartbeat increased. Dean paused, staring at perfect pink lips and licking his own. Cas leaned closer toward the moisture he felt was beckoning him. Dean’s hands were still on the bow he just tied, and now since their lips were mere millimeters apart, Dean could feel Cas’s warm breath against his lips, sending pleasant shivers down the length of his body. He inadvertently pulled the bow closer to him, drawing Cas’s hips to his own. He once more reminded himself Cas was concussed, and ghosted his lips across the other man’s whispering:

“We gotta go to the hospital, Cas.”

Cas inhaled at the sudden loss of warmth and fucking electricity. Maybe he was suffering from a concussion. Why else would he be acting this way? Because Dean Winchester was fucking perfect, that was why.

Cas breathed in deeply and followed Dean to the Impala.

*******

“I like it.” Cas muttered as they were waiting on the plastic surgeon on call.

“Like what Cas?”

“My car.”

Dean leaned forward, a smile playing on his mischievous face.

“That’s your car?”

“Yes, Claire and I bought it today.”

“Oh, and what did Claire say?” Dean smirked.

“She made fun of me and told me it was not chosen as the car of the year by Consumer Reports even during the ice ages, when it was so obviously made.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed.

“God, I love that kid.”

Cas’s heart swelled. “She is very fond of you too, Dean.”

“You know, Cas, if you ever do find her an actual classic car, I’ll give it a once over, made sure it’s safe.”

Cas knew he must’ve painted quite a picture, face all bruised, hair even messier than usual, Marv under his fingernails, and yet here Dean was, making sure he was okay. “You are an extraordinary man, Dean Winchester.”

Dean looked down at the floor, embarrassment coloring his beautiful face. “What can I say, Cas? You’d bring out the extraordinary in anyone.”

The plastic surgeon came and expertly stitched Cas’s brow, assuring Mr. Novak and his ‘partner’ (Both men thought it spoke volumes that neither of them corrected her) that there would be only the smallest traces of a scar hidden his eyebrow.

Another doctor came in releasing Cas, assuring both men that he did not have a concussion, and gave them icing instructions.

Cas leaned on Dean all the way to the car. He enjoyed being taken care of by Dean.

*******

Saturday morning Dean left a note on the fridge telling Cas he had to go work at the shooting range and that there was a yogurt parfait waiting for him in the fridge and asking him to text if spaghetti would be okay for dinner.

Cas wondered if he could just forget everything about his life except Claire and marry Dean Winchester right now.

But, he supposed, the world doesn’t work like that.

Castiel Novak sat on the back porch, empty parfait glass next to him, coffee mug beside it, and stared at the contact on his phone. He finally took the plunge and made the call.

_“Cassie! Darling, it’s been too long, I have tried to call you, you know.”_

Cas sighed. The voice with the pleasant accent both sending vibrations of excitement and apprehension throughout his body.

“I have been busy.”

_“I remember your sabbatical, of course. I just thought we were on closer terms than disappearing without a trace.”_

“I just needed a break.”

_“Yes, well, I could use one of those too. My superiors are well, you know.”_

Cas did know. There were multiple times Cas actually felt sorry for him, sympathized with him, drank with him, hell, even flirted with him. But flirting was as far as it got, and Cas supposed, at the end of the day, they could be called friends.

“I’m sorry. I should have made you aware of my location.”

_“Cassie, I understand. Naomi wanted your location. I essentially told her to go fuck herself, perhaps a bit more eloquently.”_

Cas swallowed harshly at the name. He knew of her reputation.

“I know you would never betray me. However, I am afraid we have a problem.”

_“Are you all right, love?”_

Cas could hear the urgency and concern in the voice.

“I’m fine, I killed it with the blade you gave me.”

_“Good boy. Do you know what it was?”_

“No, but I have a sample of it. I was hoping you could help me there. Because whatever it is, it found me, and I, I can’t risk certain aspects.”

_“Oh Cassie, are you in love Darling?”_

He could feel the smirk and hint of jealously in the voice.

“Can you meet me?”

_“Of course, just tell me where you are.”_

Cas deliberated. He didn’t want to bring more unnatural creatures to Dean’s door.

“Sunday?”

_“For you, Cassie? Anytime, anywhere.”_

Cas felt himself blush.

“Chattanooga?”

_“Oh, brilliant. I know just the place. Let’s say brunch, ten o’clock?”_

Cas smiled in spite of himself.

“Yes, that will work.”

_“I’m looking forward to it Cassie.”_

Cas rolled his eyes as he put his phone back on the table. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the company of the man who was the only being in existence that called him ‘Cassie’, he did. He actually thought that in other circumstances they could be good friends, but the being embodied the _life_ and reminded him of everything he couldn’t have with Dean.

Cas picked his phone back up and tapped on his messages and texted Dean, the man whose name alone brought a smile to his lips and a tingle to his skin.

_Spaghetti sounds wonderful, Dean._

*******

The Void sighs with pure exasperation as he realizes the cretin he christened “Marv” was returned to its previous state of nothingness. There are several human maxims running through his mind: ‘if you want something done, do it yourself’, ‘nice guys finish last’, and the one he decided was most fitting in this particular happenstance: ‘the devil doesn’t come in a red cape or pointy horns, he comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.’

Of course, he isn’t the Devil. Such a comparison, even on the surface level, is an insult. Regardless, the adage offers valuable instruction.

The Void puts his lit pipe on the table next to his cushioned chair and raises both large hands with long fingers palms up, raising two figures from the void.

The figure on his right stands tall, long brown hair touching his eyelashes. He blinks, looking towards his master, confusion written across his handsome features and blue eyes.

The figure on the right stands tall, proud, dark brown hair falling past her shoulders, bangs brushing the tops of her eyebrows. She appears determined, intent.

The Void breathes deeply and replaces the pipe between his teeth, a smile forming around the wood.

“Welcome Lee and Hannah. You have work to do.”


	5. What Was, What Is, and What Could Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah and Lee reminisce and meet some unwelcome visitors. Sam and Dean meet up with Benny and shop for scrap lumber for a certain blue-eyed man's bookcase. Cas meets up with Balthazar and they discuss the goo and the disturbance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for reading!! I hope you are enjoying this story and I hope you enjoy this chapter!! I would absolutely love to hear from y'all regarding this story! Y'alls comments make me smile, and warm my heart. 
> 
> Thank you all so incredibly much for the kudos, subscriptions, bookmarks, and comments!! They mean so much to me!!
> 
> I messed up last chapter and named the character "Merv" when it was supposed to be "Marv." Apparently I forgot Metatron's nickname, I am so sorry! I am going to go back and correct that, but this chapter will refer to him as "Marv". Sorry for the confusion!!
> 
> This chapter has a lot going on, so it is substantially longer than the other ones. 
> 
> Pictures were obtained from the following websites:  
> http://hairofthedogpub.net/  
> https://www.visitchattanooga.com/listing/walnut-street-pedestrian-bridge/2485/
> 
> The screenshots were made on:  
> ifaketextmessage.com 
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any other TV Show, Movie, Book, Webpage, Song, and/or App referenced in this tale. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!

A modest brick house sits a-ways back from the road in Lawrence, Kansas. The sole occupant of the home walks back and forth in his living room, going from his record player to his canvas, where a portrait of a green-eyed man smiling as he skips rocks is in the process of being painted. The inhabitant puts his paintbrush between his teeth and goes once more to the record player, unsatisfied with the current selection. He looks over his shoulder at the painting he so meticulously designed, a sad, wistful smile playing on his lips. He flips through the records and pulls out the one that reminds him of his inspiration. He lifts the needle delicately, pulls the record off that was playing, and replaces it with the album he chose.

The album, just like the man who was always on the back of the artist’s mind, was an original.

“Good Times Bad Times” starts playing throughout the small house, filling the painter with a sense of nostalgia. With blue eyes that hold the most minuscule of tears, he returns to his canvas.

_In the days of my youth_

_I was told what it was to be a man_

_Now I've reached the age_

_I've tried to do all those things the best I can_

_No matter how I try_

_I find my way to do the same old jam_ __

With a voice that rivals the honey undertones of the man who changed his life, the possessor of the unpretentious house sings along, memories flooding his mind and pooling into his work.

_Dean Winchester, in all his rugged youth picked him. They were sitting at a bar, both with fake ID’s, both knowing and calling each other out on their bullshit with not-so-subtle glances._

_“Hey.” Dean swaggered up to him, illegal drink in hand. He jerked his head up in a type of nod._

_Lee gripped his own drink tighter and returned the nod. “Hey.”_

_“You, uh, play?” Dean jutted his chin toward the pool table._

_Lee looked into his drink and smirked. “Yeah, you know, a little.”_

Lee chuckles to himself as he adds a touch of white to the river, making it have more depth.

_Lee sinks the eight ball on a three-rail shot after he calls the left corner pocket._

_Dean allows the right corner of his mouth to inch up. “All right show off, how about another where I break this time?”_

_Lee inclines his head to the side in a gesture of nonchalance. “Sure, why not?”_

_He watches with interest as Dean leans over the table, cue in hand. He watches with appreciation as the man backs up, cue going back and forth between his fingers. It’s a wonderful angle, with Dean’s muscles moving in the same direction as the cue he so expertly holds._

_Dean pockets solid after solid. As he is lining up the cue ball to sink the eight ball in one of the side pockets, Lee decided to take a chance._

_Lee saddles up beside him, cue stick leaning against one of the tables in the dingy bar. He moves so that his chest is leaning into Dean’s back. He moves his hips to Dean’s ass and puts a gentle hand on the other man’s waist, causing the cue to slip and barely touch the cue ball, triggering the white ball to land in the side pocket._

_Dean turns around, amusement and feigned anger apparent on his face._

_Lee looks at him, a smirk playing on the right side of his mouth. “You scratched. I win.”_

_Dean runs his tongue over his top lip and matches the blue-eyed man’s smirk. “What’s your prize?”_

The portraitist uses the smallest brush he owns to paint intricate lines on the man’s shirt in order to mimic the back muscles he was so familiar with.

_“You.”_

_The smirk turned into a full-on smile as the green-eyed man eyed his pool rival up and down. “You got a set on you. What if I don’t swing your way?”_

_“Oh honey, with an ass like that, if you were straight there’d be no damn justice in this world.”_

_Lee closes the small distance between them, their hips touching._

_Dean leans in to whisper in his ear. “You better be careful; I might want a rematch.”_

The artist makes sure to include the warm hues of the sunset reflected in the man’s face. Even though the sun setting to make way for the moon is a bewitching sight, there was no possible way it could compare to the beauty of Dean Winchester.

_“Fuck! I don’t even know your name.”_

_Lee laughed, cheap motel comforter making his feet itch. Dean throws a damp towel at him. Lee begins to clean himself up and looks at the other man, lust and admiration for all things that green-eyed man was apparent in his bright blue eyes._

_“Lee. Lee Webb.”_

_Dean smiles as he takes the towel from him and throws it on the floor._

_“Hey Lee, I’m Dean Winchester. And uh, if you’re not busy for the rest of your life, I’d like to take you on a date.”_

Painting the action of a skipping rock is not an easy feat, but the talented artist was able to create the ripples he intended, for, if Dean Winchester was anything, he was motion.

_I know what it means to be alone_

_I sure do wish I was at home_

_I don't care what the neighbors say_

_I'm gonna love you each and every day_

_You can feel the beat within my heart_

_Realize, sweet babe, we ain't ever gonna part_

Lee puts his paintbrush down and retrieves a .45 Rock Island 1911 that Dean bought him for his 21st birthday when he heard a strange crash in a kitchen. Lee moves silently, stealthily, his years of hunting with Dean mere muscle memory.

He comes within five feet of a creature that looks like him. Shifter. He fires off five rounds of silver ammo, and the creature only looks at him with curiosity. _Fuck!_ Lee decides to go with beheading since it was usually the fail-safe means of destruction.

He keeps the 45 in one hand while slowly pulling a blade from the knife holder on the counter closest to him. Stalking the creature like the ultimate predator he became; he is able to come within two feet of the creature wearing his face without the creature’s knowledge. He slices through what should be the sinew of the thing’s neck but meets air instead.

The blade slices clean, and the thing’s head stays on. The creature didn’t even seem bothered the knife went through what should have been flesh. Its eyes suddenly became voids, vast holes of nothingness.

 _Demon_. Lee thinks as he drops the knife and runs to his bedroom. He quickly throws open the drawer looking for knife.

_“Take it.”_

_“Dean, I can’t take this, man. It’s your insurance policy. They ain’t got no reason to come after me now.”_

_Dean shoved the blade to Lee’s chest. “Fucking take the thing, Lee.”_

_Lee puts his hand over the blade and nods solemnly._

Touching the ornate handle, he turns around at the precise moment the creature advances upon his crouched form. He shoves the blade into the creature’s chest. The creature backs up, confused. Lee stands up, waiting for the red electricity to move throughout the demon’s body as he has seen countless times before. Instead the creature pulls the blade out of his chest and examines it closely before tossing it haphazardly onto the bed.

Lee backs up into the nightstand. His options are gone.

The creature puts its hands on either side of Lee’s head. Lee screams as his memories and knowledge are taken from his mind and implanted into the creature. The creature cocks his head and looks at the figure laying on the floor. He walks coolly from the bedroom toward the kitchen and retrieves a bag.

Sitting in front of Lee’s form, he pulls out a small tube of a yellowish liquid. This is followed by a type of cloth. Small dabs of the liquid are placed onto the cloth. The creature takes Lee’s hand and begins to swipe the damp cloth across the man’s fingertips. The skin sizzles, smoke rising from the burning flesh. The creature wrinkles his nose at the smell. He continues his work on the other hand, finishing his job by wiping each hand with a sanitizing wipe.

Once the liquid is replaced carefully into the bag, he pulls out a Dremel tool and looks around the room for a plug. Once the tool is plugged in, the creature begins to work on Lee’s teeth, grinding them down slightly. The man’s mouth is swabbed and rinsed. The creature returns all the paraphernalia to his brown leather bag. It looks upward and slightly nods.

In a fraction of a second, Lee and the bag disappear from the painter’s bedroom.

*******

Cas felt guilty for leaving Sunday morning before Dean rose. He found a piece of lined paper in the kitchen’s ‘junk drawer’ and scribbled out a note. He made a pot of coffee for the other man when he woke, got out Dean’s favorite mug, and put the note beside it.

“Cas?”

Dean noticed the man’s bedroom door was open, but Cas wasn’t in there. He walked around looking for him, shrugged, and went to make coffee. He smiled broadly when he saw Cas’s note, the already made coffee, and his favorite mug. He wondered which of his beloved restaurants he would choose for dinner; Cas only deserved the best Atlanta and Dean had to offer.

*******

The stained-glass window streams colorful beams of light across a woman’s face as her husband sits next to her in a hard wooden pew. They hold the hymnal in-between them; their voices join hundreds of others as sweet notes waft through the air, through the roof, and up towards heaven.

The woman looks cautiously around her, as she feels as though she is being watched. Her too acute senses overtaking the calm in her gut. Her husband looks at her with a raised eyebrow. She smiles and shakes her head and returns to singing.

They live in an apartment around half an hour’s commute from the woman’s job as a Psychology adjunct professor at Stanford University. She and her husband have a routine on Sundays. When they get back from services she works on her PowerPoints for the week and he goes to the gym and then picks up dinner on the way home. They end the day with a few episodes of a series on Netflix.

She sits on a chic gray couch, laptop in her lap, cup of tea by her side. She smiles wistfully as she creates her first slide, an overview of the Oedipus complex.

_Castiel looks over her shoulder as he sets a cup of steaming tea beside her._

_His eyes knit together in the cutest way. He always made that expression when he was trying to pretend he didn’t understand something. It was adorable and Hannah loved it. She watches his reflection in the screen._

_“To his credit Oedipus was unaware Jacosta was his mother, and when he did discover that unfortunate piece of news, he gouged his eyes out in disgust and horror.”_

_Hannah laughed and leaned her head back so Castiel could place a gentle kiss to her lips._

_“I’m sure my students would prefer if you came and taught them about it.”_

_Castiel pulled her up, took her place on the dining room chair, and then pulled her down onto his lap. He pushed her hair back as he began to kiss her neck, mumbling into her skin._

_“If I were in a room with you, no one would learn anything except of my affection for you. You are far too distracting to me.”_

_Hannah took his face in-between her hands and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “I love you Castiel Novak.”_

Tears threaten to escape the woman’s eyes. She cradles the mug between her hands, allowing the warmth to spread throughout her body. She looks to the table next to her and sees the wedding picture with her and Joe, their second wedding. Castiel was sandwiched between Joe, but he was so much more than just a filler.

_Hannah looked with a curiosity at the man standing and staring at the flat tire on his Honda Fit in one of the University’s faculty lots. He was wearing a tan trench coat, and Hannah was immediately intrigued. She walked over to him._

_“Do you need some help?”_

_The man looked at her with a face that screamed exasperation. He was beautiful and his blue eyes immediately captivated her._

_His eyes narrowed and he looked annoyed with himself. “I appear to have a flat tire.”_

_Hannah tried to hide her smile as she nodded. “Do you have a spare?”_

_Castiel looked thoughtful and shrugged slightly. “I am unsure. The car salesman probably mentioned something about it when I bought it…”_

_Hannah felt herself smirk. She gestured to the hatch. “May I?”_

_Castiel nodded, his beautiful features now marked with a slight blush._

_Hannah lifted up the hatch, pulled the carpet mat up, revealing a jack, spare, and a lug wrench. She handed each one in succession to Castiel. He placed them on the ground and looks at her, awe, embarrassment, and bewilderment written across his face._

_“I am very grateful to you for finding the spare, but I do not know what to do with these… parts.”_

_Hannah smiles widely as she uses the tie on her wrist to pull her hair back. She takes off her suit jacket and places it on the back seat of the car._

_“Good thing I do then.” She rolls her sleeves up and lays on the ground to find the appropriate spot for the jack._

_“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask you to…”_

_“Who’s asking?”_

She plays with the band on her left ring finger, twisting the platinum back and forth. She knows she needs to finish the slides or Joe will wonder what she was doing. She takes several deep breaths and begins to type once more. The Oedipus complex was usually followed by the Elektra complex. Hannah always got snickers from that one in her Intro to Psych class.

_“I teach a couple of Intro to Psych classes, you?” Hannah asked as she slid the flat tire off and rolled it towards Castiel. She replaced it with the spare and began tightening the lugs._

_Castiel was entranced by her fluid, smooth, capable movements. He didn’t speak until she was lowering and removing the jack._

_“Oh, I teach as well. Religious Studies and Mythology. I’m afraid your clothes got very dirty.”_

_Castiel looked apologetically at the dirt smeared across her shirt and jeans._

_“I cannot thank you enough…”_

_“Hannah.”_

_“Hannah. I am Castiel.”_

_“Well, you are welcome Castiel.”_

_She brushes her hands off on her jeans and puts the jack, lug wrench, and busted tire with the rim in the hatch and grabs her jacket before closing the door back._

_“Just don’t go over fifty.” Hannah starts walking back to her own car when a deep gravelly voice calls her back._

_“Hannah.”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Would you…” Castiel looks down at his shoes before once more meeting her gaze, “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”_

_Hannah smiles sadly. “You don’t owe me anything.”_

_“No, no. I… you…” Castiel smiles widely as he steps closer to her, licking his bottom lip before continuing, “You are enchanting. If we had met in a supermarket, or a pet store, or at the Starbucks on campus, I would still be compelled to try my luck, as it were.”_

_Hannah’s smile became genuine then, lighting up the whole of her pretty face._

_“I would very much enjoy going to dinner with you, Castiel.”_

Hannah feels a presence again and is shaken out of her reverie when she sees a copy of herself in front of her. She scrambles over the back of the couch, and quickly arrives at her desk. She pulls a .38 Smith and Wesson revolver out of the bottom drawer and aims it at the creature. Her mind quickly processes what Castiel taught her regarding creatures that could emulate someone’s form.

_She begins to boil the noodles and notes the time. She feels Castiel’s arms snake around her waist and smiles widely. She leans into him._

_“You have twelve minutes.”_

_“Very tempting, but…”_

_Hannah elbows him in the stomach quickly, and steps on his foot, releasing herself of his grip. She uses his weight against him as she leverages his arm over her shoulder, forcing him to the floor. She lays on top of him and touches his lips with her own._

_He grabs the back of her head and pulls her closer to him. “And where’s the gun?”_

_“Guns. Plural. Second drawer under the coffee maker. Attached to the underside of the coffee table. My nightstand drawer. Your nightstand drawer. And one behind Oliver Twist_ _on the bookshelf in Claire’s room.”_

_Castiel sits them up on the floor, Hannah in his lap._

_“Creatures that can impersonate people?”_

_“Shapeshifters, ghouls, and shape-shifting demons.”_

_“How do you kill them?”_

_“Silver bullets, beheading, the blade Balthazar gave you.”_

_Castiel holds her to him and she places her head in the crook of his neck._

_“I am so sorry you have to know all of these things, Hannah.”_

_She holds him tighter, her legs gripping his lower back._

_“You are worth all the monsters.”_

_With a motion that is almost effortless, Castiel lifts them both off the floor, holding Hannah with one hand under her, turns the pasta water off, and walks them to their bedroom._

The gun is already loaded with silver bullets and Hannah empties the cylinder into the creature with no effect. The creature that looks like her keeps advancing. She fumbles under her desk for the machete with a silver blade. She slices through the creature’s neck, which stays firmly in place, as if the machete was swinging through air.

The blade.

Hannah runs to the other side of the room and rips the painting of the archangel Michael off the wall, revealing a long silver blade underneath it. Before Hannah can grab the weapon, the creature places both of its human hands on either side of Hannah’s head, causing the woman to fall to her knees in pain. When the creature removes its hands, Hannah’s body slumps to the floor.

The creature begins the unpleasant tasks of removing Hannah’s fingerprints and grinding all recognizable shape from her teeth. When it is done it looks upward. Hannah’s body vanishes. The creature replaces the painting, taking extra precautions to not touch the blade.

*******

Dean decides to take advantage of Cas’s absence. He texts his Sasquatch of a brother.

The green-eyed man smiled slightly as he put his phone back in the pocket of his robe. He starts singing to himself as he starts walking back to his room and gets dressed in a pair of old ripped jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days.

He hears his phone vibrate on his nightstand and picks it up to check his messages.

Dean pockets his phone and heads out, locking the door behind him, to go meet Sam.

“Hiya Sammy.” Dean offers cheerfully as he climbs up into Sam’s Ford.

“I was busy, Dean.”

“Nice to see you too.”

Dean sarcastically smiles at Sam’s bitchface.

“Where are we going?”

“The lumberyard.”

“Did you drag me out of the house to go see your friend?”

“Dude. I could’ve taken Baby for that. No, we’re going to see if there’s any good scrap lumber I can get.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter Samantha?”

“Yeah, Dean, it does. Because I was going over a case file…”

“It’s for a fucking bookshelf for Cas, okay?”

“Oh.” Sam nodded and started up the SUV, not saying another word.

*******

Cas parked his Lincoln in the lot fairly close to the pub and put his money in the parking meter. He placed the ticket the machine printed off on the front dash and started walking toward the restaurant.

He smiled when he saw Balthazar sitting at one of the patio tables. Cas rolled his eyes when he saw a small mixed-breed dog in Balthazar’s lap. Cas opened the gate and sat across from the angel.

“Cassie! So good to see you Darling! I took the liberty of ordering for you. Mimosas of course, followed by their own special version of Eggs Benedict.”

The angel studies Castiel’s face. “Want I should heal you?”

Cas shakes his head violently as he sits down. “No, thank you. It would only bring questions.”

“Of course. Although, your beauty is somewhat lessened.”

With a look of sheer boredom Castiel addresses him: “I am sorry the entity that tried to kill me bruised my face with its powerful fist before I annihilated it.”

“Me too Darling, me too. You’re far less distracting this way, though.”

Cas shook his head back and forth in amusement as the waitress brought two glasses, a carafe of orange juice, and a bottle of champagne.

“Thank you, love.” Balthazar winked at her, and Cas was sure he saw a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

“Of course, is there anything else you two need right now?”

“Coffee.” Cas interjected.

“I’ll be right back.” She smiled prettily as she hurried away.

Cas pulled his bottom lip inside his mouth, biting on the skin slightly, mirth apparent in his cobalt eyes. “Is that your dog?” His eyes narrow slightly as he inclines his head toward the seraph.

“Oh, Cassie? No, I’m just borrowing her for the day.”

“You gave her your nickname for me?” His face scrunches in a mixture of disbelief and buoyancy.

“Oh no, I just picked the one that happened to have your name.” The blonde angel speaks as if that were the most normal thing in the world.

“When you say picked…”

“I forgot what a sap you are for all things innocent. I simply flew into the local humane shelter, found the canine that most appealed to me, and thought I would take her for a day out.”

Cas sighed, his left eye slightly closed, and head inclined towards his chin with a slight angled tilt as he regards the little dog in his friend’s lap: “Well, she is adorable.”

The waitress came back with Cas’s coffee.

He smiled at her warmly, “Thank you.”

“Y’alls food should be out in just a minute.”

She left hurriedly again, Cassie the canine following her movements with her bright brown eyes.

“So, Darling, tell me all about this creature you took care of.”

Castiel told Balthazar the story of Marv and pulled out the container of Marv’s remains.

Balthazar took it as he simultaneously handed Cas Cassie.

Cas took the dog and she immediately began licking his face. His face crinkled in an adorable fashion as he smiled broadly. “She is very cute, Balthazar.”

“Mmm-hum… Darling, is this _Tupperware_?”

Cas rolled his eyes at the man’s obvious distaste.

“There are remnants of some sort of red sauce…”

“Has anyone told you that you are a bit of a snob?”

“Oh, on countless occasions.” He put the container on the table as he made them both a mimosa with the champagne and orange juice. “However, I prefer the term discerning.”

“Do you know what it was?”

Cas hands Cassie back to the angel. Balthazar begins stroking her fur as he sips his drink.

“I do not. But I will have it tested by one of my sources at MIT, see what can be discovered.”

The waitress comes out and puts their plates in front of them. She eyes the container with bafflement but doesn’t address it.

“Just holler at me if y’all need anything else.”

Cas nods, “Thank you.”

“Thank you, love.”

After Castiel and Balthazar were about halfway through their meals, the angel produces a manila folder from another plane and hands it to Castiel.

Cas looks around wildly and focuses on the angel, eyes wide open and head inclined toward him. “You can’t do that in public, Balthazar.”

“Oh, calm down Cassie. No one noticed. They all stopped staring at you five minutes ago.” He smiles as he takes another sip of his mimosa, which he pours more champagne into.

Cas rolled his eyes as he opens the folder and examines the seismograph inside.

“Is this a disturbance?”

“In the Force?” Balthazar smirks as he downs the rest of his drink.

Cas narrows his eyes at the angel in confusion, then raises his brows, widening them. “I do not understand that reference.”

“You have watched the atrocity that was that incredibly inaccurate account of that third-rate artist and spoiled socialite, but you haven’t watched _Star Wars_?”

Cas lifts his eyes upward and purses his lips before speaking. “If you are referring to _Titanic_ , yet again, I only watched that because Hannah wanted me to see it.”

Balthazar rolls his eyes. In a moment of sheer brilliance, he decides to keep his true opinion of Hannah to himself. He had always managed to hold his tongue where she was concerned, and this was not going to be the time he let anything slip. He adored Cassie, and never wanted to alienate the professor. He pretended to be aloof, but friends were rare, and he was in no position to lose one.

“Yes, Darling, it was a disturbance. A large one, apparently.”

“Mmmm…” Cas traces his finger along the figure. He squints at the date and time. His mind traces back. May 21st, 2:48pm. He smiles slightly, thinking that was probably around them time he was in front of that fountain with Dean at the botanical gardens.

“The last time something of this caliber happened was…?”

Balthazar regards the professor, all traces of flippancy gone from his voice, “When the world was created.”

*******

“Good to see you, brother.” The man with the Cajun accent and black fisherman’s cap pulled Dean to him in a tight embrace.

“You too, Benny.” Dean pats him on the back before the two separate.

Benny grabs Sam’s shoulder. “How’s married life treating you?”

Sam smiles, “Good, Benny. Jess is… great. Always has been though.”

Benny nods and looks to Dean, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “You brought Sam’s vehicle, so I’m guessing this here ain’t a social call.”

Sam speaks up before Dean can begin, “Dean wants to build a bookcase for his new roommate.” He smirks and looks at his brother’s deadpan face.

The impassiveness turns to vexation quickly as Benny begins to laugh easily.

“I’m guessing whoever it is has a great ass, am I right?”

“I expect this kind of crap from Sammy, Benny, but you? Come on, man.”

“Sorry, brother. No, I’m actually real damn happy you’re here. Let’s go find you some quality lumber for that roommate of yours.”

*******

Balthazar insisted they take Cassie for a walk along the Walnut Street Bridge in the North Shore district. He handed the canine’s leash to Cas as he held a water bottle Cas could only assume was full of some sort of top shelf Bourbon. He distractedly thought it was fortunate angels didn’t have to worry about liver failure.

Cas unfortunately had grown somewhat attached to the small dog. He knew there was no possible way he could keep her, and he distractedly wondered if Claire would like a road-trip companion. He stopped on the bridge to look out at the river and Chattanooga skyline. Balthazar stood beside him, eyes on the horizon.

“I suppose it is entirely likely Marv and the disturbance are related?”

“Although it pains me to admit anything named ‘Marv’ could have caused an event as significant as creation itself, it is more than likely, yes.”

Cas turns around, his back facing the river so he can look at Balthazar’s face. “And whatever it is, knows where I live.”

“Which is where again?”

Cas smirks at the angel.

“Ah, can’t blame me for trying, can you Cassie?”

The angel ignores his companion’s sarcastic exasperation apparent in his eyes and continues his train of thought: “Good news is, the blade is effective at killing the grunts.”

“Bad news?”

“They are simply grunts.”

Cas nods as he sighs and fidgets with Cassie’s leash. “I am tired, Balthazar.”

The angel looks away from his friend’s dark blue eyes and focuses on the river in front of him. “As much as I adore your company, I am sorry I ever brought you into this, Darling.” He once again focuses on Castiel, a slight regret perceptible in the twitch of his lips.

Cas breathes deeply and smiles sadly at the angel.

“I take it from your lack of disclosure of your address, along with your lamentations of…” Balthazar slightly shakes the Tupperware full of Marv, “fighting the supernatural, you’ve met someone?” The angel speaks with a hint of envy, but also optimism for Castiel, a man he finds himself inexplicably drawn to. The angel is fully aware he cannot offer Castiel what he needs, but he always had a type of hope that one day someone would. 

Cas smiles, in spite of himself. “They are extraordinary. And I am…” Cas finds himself unable to finish, because there are so many words he feels belongs there, none of which are complimentary.

Balthazar puts the water bottle and the container safely on another plane and takes Cas’s face between his hands.

“You are the man who has stopped hundreds of creepy-crawlies from attacking humanity.”

Cas averts his eyes to the ground and Balthazar turns his chin, making him once more resume eye contact.

“Whoever this extraordinary person is, in no way deserves you, you absolutely wonderful human being.” The seraph meant every word, it was said with a sincerity he wasn’t fully aware he was capable of, but one look at the professor told him his message wasn’t received in the manner it was intended.

Castiel Novak knew Dean Winchester deserved more than he would ever be able to give, but the angel’s words were kind, and Cas admired kindness.

“Thank you for the sentiment, Balthazar.”

The blonde strokes Cas’s forehead lightly, his thumb tracing over the stitches. “Are you entirely certain I cannot heal you?”

Cas laughs as he turns to resume walking. “Are you this attentive to all your sources?”

“Just the attractive ones.”

*******

Benny leads Sam and Dean through piles of lumber until he comes across a pile of discarded planks and boards.

“All right brother, just how impressed are we trying to get ‘em?”

Dean shakes his head and rubs his hand over his mouth. “His name is Cas, and uh, really impressed Benny.”

“Well, let’s get to it then.”

Sam and Dean wander through the lumberyard looking at various boards for integrity, and to see if the planks have any knots.

Benny Lafitte watched as his best friend picked up board after board and put them down. Benny was there when Dean and Lee broke up. He was there when Dean acted like nothing mattered, when he wanted nothing, and it scared the shit out of the New Orleans native. He and Dean had been through a lot together, fought together, stitched each other up, he had seen Dean in enough pain to knock out an elephant, but he only ever lost hope when he lost Lee. Benny had been through the various one-night stands with Dean as well, the people allowed the hunter to blow off steam, but Benny knew they never truly meant anything emotionally to Dean.

There was Lisa, and Benny thought Dean had finally found something again. However, Lisa couldn’t cope with the _life_ , and she had to do what she thought was right by her son. Benny thought Dean missed the kid more than Lisa.

And now there was Cas, whoever the hell that was. Benny didn’t care much because Dean was wanting quality lumber to build a bookcase for the man, which meant Dean was allowing this man in, and Benny would do anything in the world to encourage _that_.

“Dean!”

The green-eyed part-time mechanic stops his search and looks at his friend, shrugging in an inquisitive manner.

“I think I may got something in the warehouse.”

The trio stands in front of a pile of beautiful mahogany. The boards are exquisite, retaining their dark natural color. Dean runs his hand over the smooth planks appreciatively.

“Benny, man, these are just, wow.”

“All yours, brother.”

Sam looks taken aback and stares at Benny slack jawed. “Dude, even I know these are some expensive boards.”

Benny takes off his hat and runs his hand through his hair before replacing the cap. “There was some rich bastard who called in an order. Wanted custom made cabinets, which one of my boys is real damn good at. This pile right here happens to be the leftovers. And what Mr. Noah Cassity don’t know, won’t hurt him.”

After the planks and boards were loaded into Sam’s SUV, Dean turns to hug his friend again. Benny pats him on the back, grabs his shoulders, and steps back slightly so he can see into Dean’s face.

“Listen here, after you charm that boy of yours, you’re gonna invite me and Andrea over to dinner to meet ‘em, you hear?”

Dean smiles slightly and shakes his head. “Yeah man, I hear you.”

*******

Dean’s shed is one of his favorite places to dwell. Everything _Dean_ seeps from the wood paneling and concrete floor. There is a poster of a 67 Impala Dean found on eBay. There is a signed photo of Gunner Lawless, Dean’s favorite wrestler. He also managed to snag one of the original posters of Farrah Fawcett on eBay. There are also posters of various tool size conversions.

The tools themselves are numerous. He has a table saw, band saw, drill press, and a wood lathe. All his tools are vintage, he picked them up at various estate sales and meticulously oiled and cared for them, making them run as well as the day they were manufactured.

Dean carefully lays the boards on his workbench, making sure there is nothing around to scuff them. The boards are true, no knots in sight, and Dean wonders just how leftover these boards actually are.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and looks at the screen, smiling. He leans against the workbench to read and reply to Cas’s message.

Dean pulls his lower lip into his mouth and bites at skin there. He leaves his shop, locks the padlock behind him, pockets the keys, and heads back into the house.

*******

Two nurses, dressed in scrubs with coffees in hand, walk out of the emergency room entrance side by side. Their eyes are heavy, with bluish-purple coloring underneath them.

“Gah, that was a hell of a shift.”

“No shit. I don’t think I’ve been this tired since nursing school.”

They stop suddenly when in front of them they see a man laying on the concrete, naked, eyes open and chest barely rising and falling.

“What the fuck?” The shorter of the two nurses mutters as she runs back into the emergency room to get assistance.

The other nurse hurries over to the man and begins to assess his injures. She puts her coffee a safe distance away as she kneels next to him. She wrinkles her nose at a strange smell and notices the flesh burned away from the man’s fingertips. She notes the small trickle of blood leaving the left side of the man’s mouth.

“What the hell happened to you, honey?”

*******

Sioux Falls General was surprisingly busy for a Sunday afternoon. Dr. Bess Myers had stitched up two men who decided throwing knifes in their shared apartment would be a fun pastime. She told a young woman she did not have food poisoning and was in fact six weeks pregnant. The young woman teared up and immediately called her husband, allowing Dr. Myers to partake in the conversation via FaceTime.

There was also a very interesting man who was very animated even though the flesh of his arm was practically hanging off. He claimed he was attacked by a bear, but Dr. Myers noted the wound was far too angry to be from a bear and the claw marks didn’t match up. Bess Myers knew bears. She also knew werewolves. She simply hummed and listened to the man’s story with interest as he described in detail about finding the bear, fighting with it, getting scratched, and eventually shooting the thing in the heart and then decapitating it. He also described burning the corpse, with Dr. Myers could have lived without. However, the man was incredibly diverting, even his name brought about a smile of amusement from the ER Doctor: Garth. Dr. Myers figured she would see Garth again.

Dr. Bess Myers was walking to her car when she saw the woman laying on a bench near the hospital entrance. The woman was unclothed, her eyes were open but blank. Dr. Bess Myers approached the body carefully. She felt for a pulse and saw the fleshy mess that was the woman’s fingertips. Dr. Myers sighed sadly as she pulled out her phone to call the ER to bring out a stretcher.

“What type of creature did this to you sweetie?” Dr. Myers whispered as she pushed the woman’s dark brown bangs away from her face.

*******

The Void drums his long fingers on the table beside him. He takes a slow, long drag from his pipe and taps the wood against his perfect teeth. He looks toward the minion beside and raises a dark brow expectantly. The minion nods nervously, disappears for but a moment and returns with a glass filled to the brim with a type of green liquid. 

The Void takes the glass and brings it to his lips. He sips gingerly, the liquid lingering on his lips. He traces his tongue over them, allowing the liquid to fill all his senses.

“Are you pleased, Sir?”

The Void closes his eyes. He watches as his two new creations make their way into the lives of the humans they replicated. He smiles slightly as he takes another sip, his lips alternating between the glass and the wood.

“Yes.”


	6. He's My Cherry Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas bakes, Dean builds, the creatures impersonating Lee and Hannah adjust to life, Lee meets a mysterious man, Cas and Dean have their first official date (complete with slow dancing), and the Void experiences a rather unfortunate surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for all the wonderful kudos, comments, subscriptions, and bookmarks!! They all mean so much to me! 
> 
> This chapter is a lengthy one! I spent a great deal of time writing it, which brings me to the apology I am going to offer y'all for the slow update. If the pic of the pie looks a little bit unprofessional, it's because it is a pie I made. I wanted to see just how much work it was since I've never made one from scratch, and it is definitely a labor of love. My family was grateful though. :-) 
> 
> I have included YouTube links to the songs that are used in this fic just in case y'all want to click on them. 
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any other TV Shows, Books, Movies, Songs, Webpages, Websites, and/or Apps mentioned in this tale. 
> 
> I really hope y'all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would love to hear from y'all, it always warms my heart to see y'alls comments and kudos. Thank you so, so much and I hope you enjoy!

From conducting extensive research on the topic, Castiel Novak learned there are three primary ways to make a cherry pie.

The first way was the easiest. Store-bought pie crusts could be purchased for both the top and bottom layers. The base was typically frozen, and the top was generally refrigerated and placed with the canned biscuits in the store. Cherry pie filling could then be bought, and the very helpful stay-at-home mom’s blog he visited suggested the Duncan Hines Comstock brand. This particular method took less than an hour from start to finish.

Then there was the second way. This combined a handmade top and bottom pie crust with frozen cherries made into a filling. This endeavor was shown as taking approximately two hours.

Then there was the third way. The recipe called for fresh cherries and handmade pie crusts. This particular method took roughly four hours (if the baker was adept at pitting cherries) and this was the technique Cas decided to go with.

He had just finished writing out the last of his instructions when Dean came into the living room.

“Hey Cas, I uh, I gotta go into the shop.”

Cas looked at him quizzically. He normally didn’t work on Mondays.

“Yeah, Rufus said they got a couple new cars in. You gonna be okay here?”

Cas raised an eyebrow, which stretched his stitches, causing him to wince slightly. Dean immediately walked to him.

“It itching yet?”

“Furiously.”

Dean takes Cas’s head in his hands seemingly to inspect the wound, his thumbs taking the opportunity to run ever so slightly up and down Cas’s cheeks.

“It’s healing pretty good.”

He reluctantly takes his hands away, and Cas immediately misses the touch. He looks up at Dean with his dark blue eyes.

Dean shuffles back and forth a bit, almost imperceptibly, but Cas notices everything.

“Tacos for dinner?”

Cas smiles at the man broadly. “Taco Monday?”

Dean shrugs, a twinkle in his eyes, “Eh, we can have leftover Taco Tuesday.”

“Hum… I was going to the grocery for a few things anyway, I can buy the supplies?”

Dean chuckled. “They’re normally called ingredients, Cas, but yeah, I’ll text you a list, kay?”

Cas nods. “Yes, that is okay, Dean.”

Dean shifts more at Cas’s use of his name. It just sounded so damn good on those pale pink lips. Dean clears his throat slightly, nods, and walks to the door.

“Bye Cas.”

“Good-bye Dean.”

Dean leans against the front door after he closes it. Damn, it was all too easy with Cas. Where he cooks breakfast, Cas cleans. Then Cas starts working on the couch, and Dean goes to work. There was an instinct there for a minute to kiss Cas bye. Which was just fucking stupid because they hadn’t even had their first kiss yet. _Yet._ Dean thinks, smiling. His eyes close in a type of pain. At what point should he tell Cas? Maybe he should wait until after their first date for fuck’s sake. He pushes away from the door and heads toward Baby.

*******

Going from _nothingness_ to a creature imitating a woman named “Hannah” was a change the creature was not handling with a great deal of deftness. In fact, quite the opposite. Although Hannah’s memories, along with the way in which she moved her body, thought, and frankly lived, were in the creature’s knowledge base, acting like Hannah was proving difficult.

The first true test came when Joe came back with dinner. The creature inclined its newly formed human head and regarded its form’s husband. The memories it took from Hannah brought a sense of longing at his form, but it was more the knowledge of a feeling than the feeling itself. The creature was able to pass everything off due to the complaint of a nonexistent headache.

Food was…interesting. Joe brought back what he called Italian, but the creature knew from Hannah’s memories it was simply pizza, and not really Italian at all. The creature had to separate its ever-growing conscience with _Hannah_ , because the creature did not like Joe. She saw him as a bug she could squash. Easily. And relish the feeling.

The creature had to feign sleeping. Although it was _nothing_ , doing nothing was almost unbearable. Joe and Hannah apparently slept for seven hours, and the creature attempted to formulate a plan on how Hannah would effectively leave. Joe’s arm around what humans referred to as their ‘waist’ was uncomfortable and confining. The creature did not like to be touched by this human.

Its plan was beginning the following morning.

*******

Dean actually had no intention of going to Rufus’s garage. He just needed an excuse to work on Cas’s bookshelf. He parked Baby down the street a ways and walked back towards his shed. He is careful to avoid the windows so that Cas will not see him. He knows he’s going to extreme lengths, but if there is anyone in the world worth it, it’s Cas.

Dean pulls the door to the shed closed behind him, and opens the windows, allowing light and ventilation. He waits until he hears the Mark V start up, and he turns on his stereo that Sammy got him for Christmas. Zepplin’s “Ramble On” begins playing and Dean starts singing along.

["Ramble On"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3HemKGDavw)

_Leaves are falling all around_ _  
It's time I was on my way  
Thanks to you I'm much obliged  
For such a pleasant stay  
But now it's time for me to go  
The autumn moon lights my way  
For now I smell the rain  
And with it pain  
And it's headed my way _

Dean retrieves his pipe clamps that are hanging on the wall and takes them over to his work bench. He carefully lines three boards together, so that they form one panel. He clamps them together and makes small marks on the wood where the boards need to be doweled together. He removes the clamps and begins to drill the holes where the small wooden dowels will be placed.

_Ah, sometimes I grow so tired_ _  
But I know I've got one thing I got to do_

Dean places a small drop of glue in each hole and then gently taps the dowel in. He repeats the same action on the other boards and joins them together and clamps them.

_Ramble on_ _  
And now's the time, the time is now  
To sing my song  
I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl  
On my way  
I've been this way ten years to the day  
Ramble on  
Gotta find the queen of all my dreams _

Dean changes the ‘girl’ to ‘guy’ and ‘queen’ to ‘king’ as he sings along. He places the newly formed panel against the wall to dry and set after he wipes the excess glue that seeped out with a damp cloth.

_Got no time for spreadin' roots_ _  
The time has come to be gone  
And though our health we drank a thousand times  
It's time to ramble on _

Dean runs his hands over two of the most pristine mahogany boards he has ever had the privilege to see. They barely need any work done to them at all. He lays them across his workbench and grabs a Number 5 Stanley Woodworking Plane he has on a shelf. The plane in and of itself is a thing of beauty. It was a present from Bobby for Dean’s thirtieth birthday, and Dean practically fondled the tool.

He began to plane the boards, smoothing them even further. His body moved back and forth with the action, and he could feel the sweat gather on his brow. He wiped at his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. He almost forgot what hard work using a hand plane was. And it felt _good_ , knowing this work was for Cas.

_Ramble on_ _  
And now's the time, the time is now  
To sing my song  
I'm going 'round the world, I got to find my girl  
On my way… _

*******

The creature runs a finger identical to Lee’s along the painted spine of Dean Winchester. He can feel the artist’s love for the man, but the feeling does not move to the finger. It was a human motion the creature recalled from Lee’s mind, but the emotion is not present in the creature, just the consciousness the feeling exists.

The creature regards his surroundings. Its eyes hold neither fondness nor distaste – they hold nothing. It walks back toward the bedroom and opens the closet door. On the floor it finds two duffel bags. The creature picks them up and puts them on the bed. He opens various drawers and begins stuffing them with clothes.

The creature’s ultimate plan cannot be brought to fruition until it can pass as a normal human being with actual _feelings_. He accesses Lee’s memories, sorting through until he can find an activity Lee was accustomed to.

The creature packs the ornate knife last. He zips up the duffel bags and walks away from the bedroom, out the front door, and throws them into the back of a dark green 1968 Ford Mustang. As he is about to open the driver side door, he stops suddenly and heads back into the house.

The creature once more looks at the painting. He studies it, looking, searching for something. Something he is unable to find. He narrows his eyes and picks it up gingerly, carrying it to the car.

*******

Castiel decided his (or rather Dean’s pie) was going to be made from both dark sweet cherries and Washington Rainier cherries. That way the balance of sweet and tart would be present in each bite. Cas picked each cherry out individually so that each one would be worthy of Dean Winchester.

Castiel Novak was picking cherries for thirty minutes when a Publix associate approached him.

“Sir, can I help you?”

Cas was suddenly thrown back into his surroundings.

“Oh, I apologize miss, I am attempting to pick out the most perfect of specimens.”

The girl nods, a slight smile breaking out across her features. She reminded Cas a bit of Claire.

“My mom never lets me pick out the produce, so I don’t know how much help I’d actually be.”

Cas chuckles lightly and examines his two produce bags. “I actually believe this is enough. I was supposed to have five cups once they are pitted and halved.”

“You’re making a pie.”

Cas nods, his chin inclined towards his neck.

“Now pies, I do know a little bit about. I worked here in the bakery for a while.” She inspects the two bags. “I agree, that will be enough.”

“Thank you. I am sorry for monopolizing this particular section of the produce for so long.”

She chuckles. “Oh, it’s no problem. Hardly anyone goes shopping at ten am around here. And hardly anyone buys fresh cherries. Especially for pie. Most people just go with the canned filling.”

Cas sighs as he places the two bags of cherries into his cart. “I did read that was the easiest route.”

The girl looks around, notices the lack of well, anyone, and shifts slightly, angling more towards Castiel. “Most people don’t take the harder road.”

Cas smiles at her and looks at her name tag. ‘Patience.’ The name seemed fitting.

“No, I suppose they don’t. But, for some people, an extra effort is required.”

The girl’s face lights up with an absolutely beautiful smile. “I thought you were making this for someone. Well, whoever they are, they are lucky.”

Cas looks up at the ceiling before looking back at the girl. “I would be inclined to believe I am the lucky one.”

Patience looks around the store with only a handful of customers. “You need help with anything besides cherries? Help out my boredom?”

Cas hands her his phone, with Dean’s list of ingredients needed for Taco Monday.

She nods and hands his phone back to him. “And for your pie?”

Slightly embarrassed, Castiel hands her a handwritten list from the back pocket of his jeans.

They walk around the store together; Patience helping Cas pick out the items on his list. He learns she is working full-time in the summer, will be a senior in high school in the fall, and hopes to be accepted into an Ivy-league school.

“Ever consider Stanford?”

She hands him a package of flour, “Oh yeah, I’d love to be considered there.”

“Hum.”

They continue walking toward the dairy section.

“I could uh, write you a letter of recommendation if you are seriously considering it.”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I teach Religious studies.”

“At… at Stanford?”

Cas nods, his head inclined to the ground.

“That’s amazing! You would really write me a letter?”

“Of course.” He stops the cart and looks at her. “You are helpful, kind, considerate, you have goals and go after them. There is no reason I would not write you a letter.”

She smiles, nods to the ground, and starts back walking. “Can I put my dad’s info in your phone contacts?”

Cas nods as he hands her his phone and unlocks it. She inputs her dad’s info and hands the phone back to him as they approach the dairy case.

She grabs whole organic milk and Irish butter.

“So, who’s the pie for?”

He smirks as he looks back to her. “I do not discuss my personal relationships with future students.”

She smiles, the gesture reaching her eyes easily. “So, what do I call you?”

Cas sighs, then smiles, thinking about how this is the exact opposite from his conversation with Sam. “Dr. Novak.”

*******

“I have been thinking.”

“Oh yeah?”

The creature forces the roll out of its human eyes. “I think I am…” The creature pauses, searching for the right word for this occasion “tired.”

Joe fills his wife’s to-go mug and places it in front of her. “You could cancel classes honey, stay home and rest. I know migraines always take a lot out of you.”

“No. I am tired of this.”

Joe scrunches his brow, confusion written on his features. “Breakfast?”

The creature forces a substantial amount of breath from its newly formed lungs. “No, the routine, this existence. You.”

Joe looks at her pained, disbelief apparent on his face. “Honey, you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

“You just don’t grow tired of people you’re married to.”

The creature searches Hannah’s memories. “I did the first time.”

The creature watches with interest as the flush leaves Joe’s cheeks. His eyes become wet, and his hands visibly shake.

“No, you, you said you weren’t mature enough for our marriage then. That neither of us were, but I never let go of you Hannah, not really.”

“You should let go, Joe. I am unhappy.”

“No, no. If you’re tired, that’s fine honey, go take a vacation, and come back home when you’re ready and rested.”

The creature purses its lips. The fondness Hannah felt for this human attempts to fight against the words being said with such ease by the being made of nothing.

“I need you to understand, Joe. I do not want to be with you in any capacity, not now, not ever.”

Joe lets the tears fall, which the creature finds detestable.

“Is this, is this because of Castiel?”

A smile plays on the creature’s stolen lips. “Yes. I…” Once more the being attempts to find the most destructive phrasing in Hannah’s memory: “am in love with him.”

Joe nods and looks up at the ceiling. He puts his palms against the counter to support the upper half of his body. “You…uh…you said you didn’t feel like that for him anymore.”

“I was lying.” The creature found this taxing, it would rather have been pretending to be asleep.

“But, why?”

Joe was all but blubbering now, and the creature really wishes he would wipe his face with some type of cloth.

“I was scared, with Castiel. He was adventure, he was appealing in ways that cannot be fully described. There was a certain type of adrenaline surrounding him, apparent even in the energy his body and soul provided. That type of intensity can be terrifying. It was terrifying. Instead of staying with him, I came back to what was boring – you.”

“So, what, Hannah? I was your…what, hum? Your safety-net?”

“No, not at all. I never doubted Castiel would catch me if I fell. I didn’t need a safety net with him. He was all-encompassing, but as I said, that type of encompassment can seem too much. I was naïve in believing it _was_ too much.”

“So, you’re gonna go back to him now? Like a game of ping-pong?”

The creature wishes it would have been allowed to simply eliminate this human, but Sir made it clear that would complicate matters beyond repair.

“What I am going to do is no longer your concern.”

The creature impersonating Hannah walks towards the bedroom, pulls a suitcase out of the closet, and begins packing. It attempts to ignore Joe’s sobs from the living room.

*******

Dean had prepared all the boards so that they could be assembled when the back panel dried. He decided to dovetail the joints so the bookcase would be more artistic than utilitarian. And because he was Dean Winchester making a piece of furniture for Castiel Novak, he decided to place a decorative hand-carved molding around the top of the shelf.

Carving was a pastime Dean enjoyed. He took out the Led Zeppelin CD and replaced it with a Bob Seger one. “Old Time Rock and Roll” began playing as Dean sketched out the design he roughly wanted to follow.

*******

Cas vastly underestimated the amount of time it would take to pit cherries. His fingers were stained red, he had spent one solid hour pitting already, and he only had two cups prepared. He washes his hands and looks on his phone for an easier way to pit. He finds a YouTube video that uses a glass bottle and a small wooden stick.

He must drink a beer from the fridge in order to obtain the bottle and is able to find an appropriate stick in a chopstick he finds in the ‘junk drawer’. This process is much quicker. Cas soon gets into a type of rhythm with this method and restarts his playlist. “Night Moves” begins playing and he dances slightly as he puts the pitted cherries into the bowl.

["Night Moves"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mRFWQoXq4c)

_I was a little too tall could've used a few pounds_ _  
Tight pants points hardly renowned  
She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes  
And points all her own sitting way up high  
Way up firm and high _

Once the glass bowl indicates he has approximately six cups of whole pitted cherries, he begins to gracefully cut them in half. He puts them to the side as he begins work on his crust.

_Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy_ _  
Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy  
Workin' on mysteries without any clues _

He puts three cups of all-purpose flour in a large mixing bowl, adds a pinch of salt and sugar and gets out the butter he cut into chunks and put in the fridge earlier. He uses a fork to blend the butter into the flour mixture. The butter is cold and proves an unwilling participant. Castiel, however, perseveres and the mixture soon looks like the small pebbles it is supposed to resemble.

_Workin' on our night moves_ _  
Tryin' to make some front-page drive-in news  
Workin' on our night moves  
In the summertime  
In the sweet summertime _

Cas slowly adds iced water to the mixture until large clumps begin to form. He dumps a large lump of the dough onto the floured counter top and begins to roll it out. He was grateful Dean had a very well stocked kitchen.

_We weren't in love oh no far from it  
We weren't searchin’ for some pie in the sky summit  
We were just young and restless and bored  
Living by the sword  
And we'd steal away every chance we could  
To the backroom, the alley, the trusty woods  
I used her she used me  
But neither one cared  
We were getting our share _

Cas distractedly notes he never noticed how unromantic that song was before. “Tennessee Whiskey” begins playing after “Night Moves” finishes and he smiles at the change in song’s tones. He rolled the dough out into a circle and carefully placed it in the pie plate he had waiting.

["Tennessee Whiskey"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zAThXFOy2c)

_Used to spend my nights out in a bar room_ _  
Liquor was the only love I've known  
But you rescued me from reachin' for the bottom  
And brought me back from being too far gone _

Cas put the pie plate in the fridge and began on the top crust. He cut it into strips to make a lattice.

_I've looked for love in all the same old places  
Found the bottom of a bottle always dry  
But when you poured out your heart I didn't waste it  
'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high _

Castiel puts all the ingredients in the bowl with the cut cherries. He pulls the crust out of the fridge and puts the cherry mixture in it. He sighs as he looks at the strips of pie crusts he cut. Slowly, carefully, he creates a lattice on the top of the pie. He uses the remaining strips to form the edges and presses them down with a fork.

_You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey  
You're as sweet as strawberry wine  
You're as warm as a glass of brandy  
And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time _

With an egg and milk wash on top of the crust and coarse sugar sprinkled on top of that, Cas puts the pie into the oven and sets the timer on his phone. He looks around at the cataclysmic mess he made and sighs yet again.

*******

The older man looks down into his drink before bringing it to his lips. He eyes the younger man sitting next to him with his peripheral vision.

“Well, I’m here. What do you want?”

The creature imitating Lee Webb attempts to raise the corner of his mouth in a grin. “I thought you might have some leads.”

The man with the graying beard nods towards his glass, indicating to the bartender he would like another. Once his glass is filled, he responds: “On a case?”

The creature brings the mouth of the bottle in front of him to his lips. “Yeah, what else?”

The older man growls. “Mind your tone, boy.”

The being nods, his eyes looking at the bar’s ceiling. “Sorry, sir.”

“I might have a lead on a Wendigo up in Big Sky.” The older man downs the amber liquid. “Why didn’t you ask Dean? Weren’t you two _close_?” The word hangs in the older man’s mouth, as if saying it would cause him physical pain.

Since the older man’s eyes weren’t on him anyway, the creature allowed itself to roll the eyes it was currently using. “I don’t want Dean to know about this.”

The older man laughs, a deep sound that shakes the glass in front of him. “Seems like Dean knew everything about you.” He makes eye contact with Lee for the first time since their meeting began. “Too damn much.” He once more turns to the shelves of liquor in front of him.

The older man pulls a leather-bound journal out of his well-worn leather jacket. He opens it to a page that details information about several disappearances in Montana, with witnesses stating they heard human cries before their friends / loved ones went missing.

The creature really had no interest in hunting monsters, he was one after all. However, it was brought forth in order to complete a task, a task he needed to ‘hunt’ for.

“Here’s all the info I got.” The older man’s glass is once more refilled.

“I guess I’ll head up there, then.”

The man turns his hazel eyes to the creature. “I see you still got the ‘Stang.”

“Yeah, she’s a good one, keeps running smooth.”

The older man scoffs. “Surprised you call it a ‘she’.”

The eyes that were made in the image of the artist hold a strange type of anger. The creature notes it is improving with actually feeling feelings. It gets off the stool, lays down a ten-dollar bill and addresses the man that was sitting next to him: “I’ll take care of that Wendigo. Take care of yourself.”

The bartender turns to the older man once the creature left.

“You want anything else, John?”

*******

Cas pulls the pie out of the oven and is surprised he didn’t burn it. Like, at all. He sets it on a wire rack to cool. He had just finished cleaning and decided he should probably clean up himself.

“Hey Cas, what smells so good?”

Cas looks at the clock on the stove when he hears Dean’s voice: 4:07 pm. He wasn’t expecting Dean to be home until 5:30. He nervously looks up to see Dean at the entrance to the kitchen.

“I… I baked.”

Dean walks closer to him to inspect the pie. He looks at the uneven lattice, the flour on Cas’s t shirt and pants, and the purple cherry juice stains that still remain on Cas’s fingers. He realizes Cas made that thing from scratch for him.

Cas becomes slightly uncomfortable at the look Dean is giving him because he can’t decipher it. He looks up, away from Dean’s gaze and begins to explain. “I know you said I could take you out for pie, but I thought since you were so gracious to…”

Before he could finish his sentence, he is pulled into an embrace that knocks the breath out of him. Dean has one of his hands on the small of Cas’s back and the other buried in his hair. Dean buries his face in Cas’s shoulder, and his breath on Cas’s neck sends pleasant shivers throughout Castiel’s body. Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s back, and they stand there, embracing, holding onto one another for several minutes, each unwilling to let go.

A hug can be many things. When humans are young, they can provide comfort. A scraped knee can often be vastly improved by an embrace from a friend or caring adult. They can be a greeting or an adieu. Hugs have a wonderful quality of saying things words can’t. They can relate to the receiver that they were missed, they will be missed, they are cared for, they are loved. Hugs can be platonic or romantic. They can be between a parent and their child, siblings, friends, lovers, or any two people that care about one another in any capacity. There have even been instances where hugs occur between two strangers, providing comfort where words couldn’t possibly.

This hug – this embrace between two beings who seemed to go above and beyond for each other meant so much. It was comforting, of course. It had to be really, just from the nature of it. When two forms fit together so perfectly it would be almost impossible to not receive comfort from that, like a garment that fits so well it is barely noticeable. It also said the things Dean was unable to say in that moment. The intimate touch of his hand in Castiel’s black hair told the man with blue eyes that Dean appreciated Cas’s gesture. The head buried on Cas’s shoulder expressed the intimacy the two already shared. The hand on the small of Castiel’s back indicated Dean’s surprise at the amount of work Cas put in for _him_. The hug expressed everything, and just like the first time the two men embraced, it was everything.

Dean reluctantly pulled away from Cas, and both men instantly felt cold, despite the kitchen’s warmth.

“It looks perfect, Cas.”

“The lattice is uneven.”

Dean smiles. “It’s fucking perfect.”

He enjoys the slight blush on Cas’s cheeks far too much. He notices he got sawdust on Cas’s shirt.

“Oh, shit man, sorry.”

Cas squints his eyes, taking in Dean’s appearance. “Were you working on one of those old type of cars that has wooden siding?”

Dean nods, “Yup.” He didn’t even have an explanation, but that one worked surprisingly well.

“The instructions indicate this pie needs to cool completely, so I am assuming that will be in a couple hours?”

Dean can’t get over the absolute adorableness of this guy. “Yeah, probably after dinner. Perfect timing, Cas.”

“I suppose I should clean up. I can assist you with dinner?”

“Aren’t you tired of the kitchen by now?”

As Castiel Novak walks away from Dean back towards his room he answers: “Not when you’re in it.”

Dean licks his bottom lip, scratches the back of his head with his hand, and shakes his head with amusement. He takes one last look at the pie, salt water suddenly threatening to escape his green eyes, and goes to get cleaned up as well.

*******

Dean practically gasps when Cas comes into the kitchen. The man is wearing a dark blue unbuttoned Henley and light wash jeans, causing Dean to look down at his raggedy t-shirt and sweats.

“Uh, hey Cas. I left out the stuff for you to chop.”

Castiel’s knife skills were extraordinary, and Dean had to make sure he didn’t stare too longingly at how Cas handled the blade.

“So, uh, formal dinner tonight?” Dean takes a swig of his beer and uses the bottle to indicate Cas’s jeans.

“Oh, this…” Cas becomes slightly embarrassed, his voice timid: “I was hoping this could perhaps be our pie date?” He pauses, uncertain of Dean’s expression. “However, I can still buy you pie if… or if I used the term date incorrectly…”

Dean chuckles, causing Cas to stop speaking. “Dude, you go back and forth from being smooth as fuck all ‘cooked by you’ and ‘not when you’re in it’ to being this absolute dorky nerd unsure of every word, and I am so fucking whipped by it.”

Cas looks into Dean’s eyes and notes the attractive creases around them, more pronounced by his smile. “You seem to bring an aspect of my personality to light I am not entirely sure how to handle.” He turns his attention to the lettuce and begins to carefully chop it into shreds. “Perhaps I am ‘whipped’ as well.”

Dean smiles to himself as he gets Cas a beer from the fridge, opens it, and places it in front of him by encompassing Cas’s body from behind. He smirks as he feels Cas tense and then almost instantly relax into him. He rests his palms against the counter on either side of Cas’s waist, and leans in even further, causing their shoulders to touch. He whispers in Cas’s ear: “And this is definitely a date.” He backs up and watches Cas’s shoulders as the man tenses again.

No person has ever had the effect on Castiel that Dean manages to have. Cas loved Hannah, and he wanted a life with her, and he wanted her, he was passionate about her. And he knew that Hannah loved him in some regard.

But Dean? Dean was an entirely different story. Dean made him feel all the things people usually only dreamt of feeling. His knees became weak when the other man was close to him. His heart leapt at the sight of the man. The green eyes caused his stomach to knot, and a touch from Dean’s careful, calloused fingers could flutter the butterfly wings in his gut. Cas was sometimes able to flirt effectively and effortlessly with him, and then other times he was a mess – just like Dean expressed. Cas was unfamiliar with the person he was around Dean, but who he was felt right. Dean’s arms that close to his waist sent shivers throughout his body, and Dean’s breath on his ear made his blood flow down, and he knew that if he tried to speak whatever would come out would not be coherent, so he once more began chopping and hoped he could formulate an actual cohesive thought sometime soon.

Dean watches as Cas carefully finishes chopping the lettuce and smirks as the man takes a long draw from the beer Dean gave him.

“Thirsty?”

Cas turns to him, face set. “If you insist on this course of action, dinner will never become prepared.”

Dean shrugs, head moving carelessly to one shoulder. He would really enjoy taking Cas and that pie to his room right then. He tried not to think too much on how he included the pie in that scenario, but damn it, fantasies were called fantasies for a reason. And Cas straddling him while feeding him pie was just about the best damn mental picture Dean could come up with. But this was _Cas_ , and Cas deserved the whole nine. The romance, the care and concern, the fucking _truth_.

Dean cleared his throat and turned to get the ground beef out of the fridge. “You’re right, I mean, what kind of a date would I be if I didn’t make sure you had dinner?”

He hears Cas mumble as he pulls the drawer open under the stove to get a pan. “A sated one hopefully.” It was barely audible, but Dean heard every word, making him drop the pan. Cas turns to him, wide-eyed.

“Fuck, Cas.”

Cas swallows and returns to his cutting board. He begins to carefully slice an onion for Dean’s beef. “You have exceptional hearing.”

Dean manages to put the pan on the stove and turns the burner on, allowing the pan to heat. “And you talk real dirty for not talking dirty.”

Cas’s cheeks crimson and he keeps his focus on the vegetable in front of him. “I apologize, I was out of line.”

“No, you sure as hell weren’t. Never apologize for shit like that with me, man. I mean, typically that’s how I operate.”

Cas raises a quizzical and demanding eyebrow at Dean, which the green-eyed man feels right in his crotch. He swallows and drizzles oil in the hot pan. He adds the onions Cas chopped.

“But you, uh, I want to do right by you. Like, actual dates where we talk and stuff, and super cheesy shit that I used to make fun of Sam and Jess for. Like I just want to _try_ with you I guess.” _And hope like hell you don’t bolt when you find out what I do_ , he muses. 

Cas pauses his chopping and braces himself against the counter with his palms. “I can assure you I am not normally so forward. I am one to lean toward the romantic, sometimes even being criticized for my gestures. However, you… you are the exception to my rule.” He hopes like hell Dean will be the exception when it comes to the _life_.

“And you to mine, Cas.”

The two men smile at each other before returning to their task of cooking. 

Cas rolls his eyes at Dean as the man insists on spreading the tablecloth on the dining room table and lighting the candles. Normally the two eat at the kitchen island.

“Date, remember?”

Cas smiles at Dean’s smirk. “I do deserve to be properly wooed.” He teases as he sets their plates at their seats.

“Fuck yeah you do.”

Dean puts Cas’s playlist back on in the kitchen and it runs through a Bluetooth speaker so they can hear it in the dining room.

“Dean, we don’t have to listen to my…”

“I want to get to know you Cas, so I wanna find out what type of music you like.”

Cas inclines his head, “It is eclectic, to say the least.”

“It’s you, so I’m gonna find out.”

“Well then, to be fair, you have to tell me about your taste in music.”

Dean takes a bite of his taco, speaking his answer with a mouth full of food: “Oh no, you’re gonna hear it, second date.”

Cas shakes his head with amusement at Dean, he smiles at the promise of a second date. He begins to eat his own food.

“Okay, so why Bob Seger?”

Cas furrows his brow. “Hum… you know, describing why one likes a certain type of music is difficult. But Bob Seger I suppose reminds me of a type of freedom I have never experienced. A type of freedom you seem to represent.”

Dean stops mid-chew, “What?”

Cas takes a drink of his beer. “I imagine you riding cross-country in that car of yours, windows down, enjoying state highways, because I do not think you are an interstate-type man.”

Dean looks at him, eyes soft. “I’m not. And uh, I don’t know, the road is always better with someone. The front seat’s been too empty too long. But there’s a rule.”

“Which is?”

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.”

Cas nods. “Sounds fair.”

Dean smirks.

They talk about the songs on Cas’s playlists, about how music makes them feel, and are soon done with their tacos.

Cas takes their plates into the kitchen and comes back with pie. He carefully cuts two slices, one significantly larger than the other, and puts the bigger slice in front of Dean.

“Cas man, this looks amazing.”

Castiel sighs and looks down at the pie which somehow stayed intact. “I do hope so, I followed the instructions…”

He is interrupted by a positively _sinful_ moan from Dean’s throat. It is right then Cas decides another pie of some fashion will be made very soon. Cas forgets to eat his own slice as he watches the pure elation on his date’s face.

“Oh my God, Cas, holy balls of fuck, man.”

Cas is completely at a loss for words, and he has to focus before he can take a bite. It was good, but Dean was much more enthralling. Cas realizes he is biting the corner of his lip and makes himself pull his eyes away from Dean’s face as he finishes his slice.

Dean cuts himself another slice and puts it on his now-empty plate. Cas’s gaze is once more drawn to Dean’s mouth as he licks his thumb from the filling. Cas licks his bottom lip and swallows. He tries to mentally trace the design in the tablecloth.

“Who’s this?” Dean inclines his head to the speaker.

Cas works really hard to focus. “That is Victor Wainwright, ‘That’s Love to Me’.”

“It’s good.”

Cas nods, “I’m fond of it.”

["That's Love To Me" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_UdM5BwhHQ)

Dean offers his date a mischievous grin as he stands up and holds out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Cas looks up, amusement apparent in his eyes. His full smile lights up his face and Dean is even more entranced. Cas takes his hand and Dean leads them to an open part of the room.

Dean puts his hands on either side of Cas’s waist. Cas puts one of his hands on Dean’s shoulder, and he puts the other hand on the nape of Dean’s neck, rubbing his thumb up and down.

Cas watches with interest as Dean’s pupils dilate, making the green less prominent.

_You are you and I am I_

Dean sways them back and forth slowly. “You come here often?”

Cas has to throw his head back to laugh properly.

_Time goes by so fast when I’m with you, and you’re with me_

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck. “Did it hurt?”

Dean smirks, playing along. “Did what hurt?”

“When you fell from Heaven?”

“Are you tired?”

“From what?”

“Exercise, cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

_That’s Love to me._

Cas moves his arms so that they are slightly under Dean’s. He puts his hands on Dean’s hips, and allows his fingers to move aside his shirt to brush against skin. Dean takes a sharp intake of breath and pulls Cas closer. He moves one of his hands to the side of Cas’s face, his other hand soon follows to the other side, one of his thumbs strokes the man’s dark stubble, and the other begins to lightly trace his lips. Cas slips his thumbs into the waistband of Dean’s sweats, encouraging him.

__If you truly love somebody, then you let them be themselves.

Dean licks his lips, and Cas watches as Dean’s lips move wonderfully closer to his own. Dean angles Cas’s head, parts his lips slightly with his thumb, and Castiel closes his eyes in anticipation of Dean’s perfectly shaped pink lips kissing his own.

“Oh, shit, sorry, uh…”

Cas’s eyes snap open at the sound of Sam’s voice. He watches as Dean’s eyes scrunch in frustration. He leans his forehead on Cas’s before breaking away. Cas returns his hands to his side and looks at Sam.

“Hello, Sam.”

“Uh, hey, Doc-, uh Cas.”

“You need something Sam?”

Sam looks at his brother with the most apologetic set of puppy eyes Castiel has ever seen.

“I uh, yeah, I brought you something, it’s in my car.”

Cas puts his hand on Dean’s arm. “I am going to clean up the kitchen.”

“You sure? You don’t have to.”

Cas smiles. “I’m sure.” He turns to Sam. “It was nice seeing you Sam. Please give Jessica my regards.”

“Uh, yeah, you too.”

*******

“Dude, I am so fucking sorry.”

Dean leans against the Impala. He huffs out a laugh at the Mark V. “No need, Sammy. I mean, the way things were headed…”

Sam furrows his brow. “Isn’t that where they normally head with you?”

“Is that supposed to be a pun?”

“What? Dude, no, gross.”

Dean shrugged. “I guess I mean I want it to be different with Cas. I want him to know before anything happens, I guess.”

“You mean, about what you do?”

“Yeah, and uh, I want to date him, not just fuck him.”

Sam’s face softens, and Dean could swear he was almost going to _cry_. “Oh, hell no man, you are getting way too chick-flicky.”

Sam purses his lips and nods, trying to stifle the emotion his brother didn’t want to see. “Uh, so, Benny called me and asked me to come pick this up for you.” He opens the back of the SUV to reveal a piece of mahogany that was meant to be turned on the lathe. “He thought you could make legs out of it.”

Dean picks it up to further examine it. “I know Benny said this was extra lumber but I’m calling bullshit.”

Sam closes the back. “Yeah, I guess you should probably have him over for dinner sooner rather than later.”

“I owe him a hell of a lot more than dinner, Sammy.”

Sam shrugs. “Maybe, but he’d never ask for more.”

*******

Dean comes back in the house to find Cas in pajamas sitting cross-legged on the couch.

“I thought we might watch a movie?”

Dean plops next to him and picks up the remote. “That sounds like a great idea, Cas.”

*******

A primal yell escapes thin lips, disintegrating the forms laying around him. The Void looks at the deep gash on his long arm, exposing the nothing underneath it. His eyes hold anger, pain, and fear. He rolls down the sleeve of his smoking jacket and pulls the timepiece out of his watch pocket:

4:08 pm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I would love to hear any comments y'all might have and kudos are so, so appreciated!! Thank you again!!
> 
> Websites referenced and/or used in this chapter: 
> 
> https://www.livewellbakeoften.com/homemade-cherry-pie/  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmybF5PyiI4


	7. Dodge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brunch, Hannah finds a new place to live, Lee fights a Wendigo and meets a familiar face once more, John remembers some things, Dean and Cas spar and go on their second date (much talking is included), and wake up to a gruff man standing over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for the kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks!! They mean so, so much to me as the author of this tale and I appreciate them so incredibly much. Thank you!
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any other TV Show, Movie, Book, Song, Website, and/or app mentioned in this story. 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: There are mentions of homophobia in this chapter on John's part, and slight mentions of abuse (regarding an adult). I wrote John as a very unsympathetic character in this story. I know the series rectified some of his actions as a parent, but I couldn't write him for this story in that way. I thought about how he would be portrayed, and the images that ran through my mind were of Dean being afraid of John (as he expressed to Sam in Sam's heaven), John leaving Dean to care for Sam, Dean being more comfortable with Bobby or in a group home than with John, and Dean instinctively naming the shifter baby after Bobby. Also, Dean calling his father an obsessed bastard and saying he didn't deserve what John put on him. Writing John this way was a difficult choice, especially after the latest episode the series had him in, but for this story I felt it worked. I completely understand if reading about John as he is portrayed here might be a deal breaker. If you would like to skip the section that includes the flashback and John's homophobic slurs (there are two, and both refer to Dean's boyfriend at the time), the section begins with the word "John" and ends by *******. This section does not have to be read in order to understand the chapter, but it does provide a bit more insight into Dean's psyche. 
> 
> I am so sorry for the long author's notes!! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you so much for reading!!

Dean chuckled as he felt Cas press his face into his back.

“Mornin’ sleepy head. You stayed up reading, didn’t you?”

He can feel Cas’s nod. They had started watching “The Night Manager” and Cas was so enthralled in the plot he said he was going to download the e-book. He made it known to Dean that he preferred the paper editions but admitted there was a certain appreciation to be had over things that could be immediately downloaded.

“I didn’t pass where we are in the series though, Dean.”

Cas’s arms moved to around Dean’s waist and Dean relished the perfectness of it. Cas settled more into his back.

“Hey, don’t go back to sleep there, buddy. I’m pouring your coffee right now and you’re gonna help me with brunch.”

Cas makes a type of disgruntled noise. Dean rolls his eyes slightly and laughs. He turns around in Cas’s grip so they are face to face. He wraps his arms around Cas as well. He wanted to kiss him so bad, but they still hadn’t made it to that point, and their first kiss was going to be _epic_ , Dean decided. Like, no holds barred, epic. He settles instead for a kiss to Cas’s forehead, untangles himself and hands Cas a loaf of Brioche bread.

“All right, we’re making stuffed French Toast, so I’m gonna need those pretty thick, so that you can make a pocket in them, good?”

Cas nods, grumpily. Dean carefully hands him the bread knife. “Four pieces, kay?”

“Coffee, please?”

Dean places Cas’s coffee at the man’s normal workstation, hopefully encouraging him to slice the bread Dean needed to stuff and coat.

He noticed Cas downed half the still-steaming mug before cutting the bread. He puts a container of strawberries next to him with a chef’s knife once Cas hands him the bread.

“How?”

Dean marveled at how the normally verbose man was barely able to form two syllables when he was tired.

“So, a few sliced for the top, and the rest diced for the filling.”

Cas nods once more and begins his task.

Dean gets eggs and milk out of the fridge and cracks the eggs with one hand into a bowl. He adds some milk and a dash of vanilla extract. He whisks those together and puts them to the side. He notes Cas has already successfully chopped all the strawberries.

“You wanna make the filling?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay, so softened cream cheese, bowl, one half cup icing sugar, and your strawberries, mix with the hand mixer.”

Cas follows each of Dean’s instructions perfectly, allowing Dean to make the cinnamon sugar mixture the bread will be coated in.

Dean puts the filling into a Ziploc bag and expertly pipes the filling into the bread slices. He coats each side in the milk and egg mixture, dips it in the cinnamon-sugar mixture, then places it in a heated pan with butter.

Cas begins to wash the dishes they used, while Dean stands guard over the toast.

“You wanna get the maple syrup out?”

Cas gets the bottle out from the cabinet and puts it on the kitchen island. He gets two plates and silverware out as well. He also remakes them both a cup of coffee and orange juice. Dean plates the French Toast and Cas puts the sliced strawberries on top and sprinkles powdered sugar on top, making for a beautiful dish.

“We’re damn good cooks, Cas.” Dean says as he stuffs a piece of French Toast in his mouth.

“You’re a good cook, Dean. I can cut things.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, man. I had a piece of pie for first breakfast before you woke up.”

“First breakfast?” Cas smiles as he pours syrup on his toast.

“Yeah.” Dean grins.

“What you got planned for today?”

Cas sighs as he drinks more of his coffee. “I have a class this evening.”

“You’re teaching here?” Dean tried to hide the hint of excitement in his voice, he really did. If Cas was teaching here, maybe he intended to stay here, and things such as location would not have to be discussed down the road, if there was a down the road.

“No, a…um…” Cas hesitates and thinks this might be a good segue to telling Dean _everything_ , and _soon_. “A boxing class that I attend as a student.”

Dean thought that was all manner of hot and wanted to be a witness; this allowed him to stowaway the disappointment in Cas not teaching in Atlanta. He cleared his throat very slightly.

“Uh, I could go with you? Then we could go get a couple drinks? Second date, my music?”

Cas smiles and huffs out a laugh. “I don’t want to embarrass you. You may see me get punched and want nothing to do with me ever again.”

“Pretty sure that won’t happen, Cas. But if you don’t want me to go with you, I completely understand.” Dean was not ever going to push his company on someone who didn’t want it.

“No, I would very much like for you to attend. Just be prepared for me to get my ass kicked.”

“Be prepared for me to cheer you on, no matter what.”

Dean and Cas continued eating in silence for a few moments, before Dean once more broke the silence. “Okay, not that I’m not incredibly turned on by both of these things, but why does a professor at Stanford take Boxing lessons and have such impressive knife skills?”

Cas sighs as he chews, contemplating an answer. “I am not what you would consider ‘typical’ I suppose.”

“In any way, Cas.”

“That is a nice compliment, Dean.”

Dean blushes as he looks down at his plate. “So, uh, you wanna binge “The Night Manager” after we finish up until your class starts?”

“I would like that very much.”

“I’ll uh, even let you tell me the differences between the book and the show.”

Cas looks up, surprise and fondness in his eyes. “Really?”

Dean had no idea the offer would be so meaningful. “Yeah, man, of course.”

Cas gets up from his stool and goes over to Dean and wraps his arms around the other man’s neck before kissing his cheek. He rests his head on top of Dean’s and Dean places his head on Cas’s chest.

“I know you probably just intended for that to be one of your many kindnesses, but I cannot tell you how much that means to me. I have always been ridiculed for trying to explain the differences between the books and movie or show. I learned early on in life to stop telling people all together. I suppose your saying that just made me realize you allow me to be myself.”

Cas closes his eyes, hoping that Dean will accept him for every single aspect of himself, and all that entails.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s back and mumbles into the other man’s chest: “I kinda like you for you Cas.” _And I hope like hell you’ll like me for me too_.

“I like you for you too, Dean.”

*******

Sir had given her explicit instructions and the creature posing as Hannah intended to follow them to the letter. However, displeasure was written across her borrowed face as she scanned the outside of the apartment complex she was meant to inhabit. The building was dilapidated, needing repair in every way imaginable. The brick was crumbling, cracks were running through the mortar, ivy was growing into those cracks, making a type of concrete jungle.

Window air conditioning units were humming loudly, disrupting the stillness of the Southern May humidity. She hears an ice cream truck and furrows her brow at the noise. Children scamper out of the building holding dollar bills. They run by the creature, one bumping into her leg.

The child looks up, terror is written across his young features as he looks into eyes he knows aren’t quite right. With a mumbled ‘scuse me’, he joins his compatriots. The creature watches after him, looks as he purchases an orange push pop. It stares as the young human eats the ice cream, smiling and laughing alongside his friends. The orange confection dribbles down his chin and the creature is reminded of Joe’s blubbering.

The entrance of the complex holds nothing but contempt for the creature. It hates to be confined, missing the nothingness that once surrounded it. The building itself appears restricting, and the creature cannot imagine what could be said of the room inside of it.

With distaste, the creature approaches the building and stares at the box outside of the door. It scans the names next to the buzzers and reaches a forefinger to touch the one marked ‘office’. With an explanation it is looking to rent, the creature is buzzed in. 

*******

John Winchester hadn’t seen either of his boys in years. He hadn’t seen Sam since Mary kicked him out. He saw Dean a few times after, the boy always trying to seek an approval John wouldn’t give. But Dean introduced him to the life, and that was something John learned he was damn good at.

_“Dad?”_

_John kicked his way into Dean, Sam, Jess, and Lee’s two-bedroom Palo Alto apartment. He stumbled his way to the kitchen, opened all the cabinets, grabbed a bottle of Jack, and plopped himself onto the couch._

_“Got any money?”_

_Dean sniffs and looks away from the man his father had become. “How much you need?”_

_“How much you got?”_

_“I can spare a couple hundred, Sammy’s in school, and I…”_

_“Fuck, boy, I don’t care what you got going on, I’m your old man.”_

_Dean sighs, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a couple hundred dollar bills and throws them to the spot on the couch next to John._

_“Sam’s gonna be home soon.”_

_John downs the rest of the bottle and stands up, swaying. He pockets the money and starts to head to the front door when he notices the bruise on Dean’s cheek._

_“Your pansy-ass boyfriend hit you? Not surprised.”_

_Dean stills, his face becomes impassive and he holds tears that threaten to fall._

_John’s trained eyes go to the angry, festering scratch on his eldest son’s arm. “That ain’t from no panty waste.”_

_John twists Dean’s arm in his hand, forcing a muffled cry to escape Dean’s set lips._

_“Where’d you get that, boy?”_

_Dean scoffs as physical and mental pain wrack havoc on his mind. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”_

_“Try me.”_

That’s when John learned about all the things that go bump in the night. And he learned soon after he was damn good at killing them. Better than his son ever’d be. But he wasn’t getting no younger and the life was catching up to him. He was gonna need a new outlet, and soon. Maybe he’d call up his sons. Seeing Lee started to stir up some memories, and John was all about making new ones.

*******

Dean was going over all of Led Zeppelin’s best tracks on the way to the gym. He happened to look over at Cas in the middle of his monologue and noticed the blue-eyed man’s soft smile.

“What?”

Cas sighs, contemplating his words carefully. Dean watches as the professor draws his bottom lip into his mouth, biting at the tender skin slightly. Cas just looks so contemplative, and Dean feels like the most important person in the world – causing Cas to be so selective where he is concerned. Dean forces his eyes back to the road.

“There are times, as a professor, where I am in a position to witness something raw, something powerful. These times are rare, and I have learned to enjoy them for the fleeting moments they are. They occur when someone is truly passionate about something, and they have the ability to express that passion. It comes across in academic papers, speeches, sometimes even class discussions.”

Castiel smiles slightly, a faraway look in his eyes. “Your brother had those moments in class. His passion for believing in the greater good was astonishing. He admired heroes, those who slayed monsters. His papers, Dean, were phenomenal.”

Dean feels tears pool in his eyes, his pride for Sammy knew no bounds.

“I have been trained to relish those moments, so I can see them everywhere. Once, when I was at a farmer’s market, a man spoke to me passionately about his crop of strawberries. At a new restaurant off campus, I was fortunate enough to hear a young chef describe her newly cultivated dish. These descriptions, these passions, are works of art.”

Dean casts a questioning brow to Cas.

“In your descriptions of your top thirteen Zeppelin tracks, you evoked that feeling. That raw yet organized passion. You have made me feel through your descriptions.”

Well shit on a shingle, Dean was not expecting _that_.

“Uh, thanks, man.” Dean had to focus really hard to keep his eyes on the road.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

*******

The nothing that had been formed into a lookalike of Lee Webb stares at the monster in front of it. The creature was grotesque, and Lee laments leaving the nothing. The knowledge of the man whose visage he copied allowed him to know this thing was killed by fire. The creature could have, of course, simply touched the thing and brought about its destruction. However, Sir was very clear in his instructions of acting as if he was Lee Webb.

With a sigh that almost seemed natural, the being shot the Wendigo with a flare gun. The Wendigo erupts and lets out an otherworldly wail. In those screams the being finds a sense of calm.

Human cries can be heard several feet away and the creature once more remembers the Wendigo had hostages. The creature’s eyes lift upward in a type of roll, another gesture it learned from Lee’s memory.

With a knife kept tucked in his waistband, the creature releases the ropes keeping the humans captive. Two of the humans are already corpses, and the nothingness’s human nose crinkles in disgust.

The survivors are a male and female in their early thirties. They appear unremarkable, and after a curt nod, the creature begins to walk away, assuming they can find their own way back.

“Wait!”

The creature turns to face the male, with a look that tries to appear caring. It only slightly misses the mark.

“Uh, what was that?”

The female speaks before the creature can answer. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. And it was a Wendigo.”

“A what?”

The male was proving to be more annoying than the creature cared to deal with.

“A monster.” He looks to the female. “Can you two find your way out?”

She nods. And he leaves.

The creature has not walked more than thirty feet when he runs into another man, a grin plastered on his face, shotgun in hand.

“John?”

*******

“Hey, Novak!”

Dean smiles as a 5’4” woman jogs over to them once they enter the gym.

“Hello Janie.” Cas smiles pleasantly at her.

She squints her eyes slightly at Dean.

“This is Dean, he was hoping to stay for our session.”

“Oh, that’s actually perfect because Henry had to stay at home with his kid and can’t be your sparring partner for tonight. I tried to call you a couple times.”

Cas looks down at his shoes: “I got caught up in a miniseries.’

Janie puts her hands on her hips, not in a defiant or unpleased manner, just as a place to put them. She seems unable to stand too still for too long. “Which one?”

“The Night Manager.”

“With Tom Hiddleston?”

Cas smiles, “Yes.”

“Nice ass on that one huh?”

Cas nods his head in agreement and Dean just stares at him. Cas catches his eyes and shrugs. “It is true.”

Janie puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You have a nice ass too, Dean.”

Dean attempts to hide his smile as he looks down at his jeans. “Eh, I don’t know how much sparring I’ll be able to do wearing these. So…”

Cas hands him his duffel bag. “I have a clean set of workout clothes in there, you are more than welcome to wear them.”

And now Dean has no excuse and is in some deep shit.

Dean has never fought with protective gear and he finds it a bit cumbersome. Cas’s clothes fit a little too well for Dean’s liking – because he was unable to focus as intently as he knew he needed to.

Janie proves to be a professional in all aspects, as she instructs the men around each other.

“Dean, hands up, in a protective stance in front of your face.”

Dean obliges, his feet shoulder width apart in a semi-crouch.

“Nice form.”

He mutters a “thanks”, knowing not to look away from his opponent.

“Novak, right cross, Dean, block it.”

Cas does as she says, but Dean can tell he’s holding back. Dean drops his hands and puts them by his side.

“Cas, it ain’t really much of a lesson if you don’t try and hit me.”

Cas looks to Janie, who nods. “He’s right. I’ve seen you hit Henry, and damn you have power behind your punch. Don’t pull ‘em, Novak, you aren’t gonna mess up your boyfriend’s face, I promise.”

Cas nods solemnly, and Dean grins at his lack of a correction.

“All right, left jab, Novak, Dean, block.”

Cas solidly punches, stronger than Dean would imagine from the man’s non-dominant hand. Dean staggers back slightly.

“Good, now, if you were in an actual fight, where would you hit?”

“From his defensive position, a hook.”

“Which hand?”

“Left.”

“Why?”

“He has been able to determine my dominant hand and I would strategize the left would be more surprising.”

“Dean?”

“He’s a switch-hitter, I’d be expecting both.”

Janie bites the corner of her mouth, hiding a smile. “You two are well-matched, so, I’m gonna stand back and offer suggestions if I see something that could be improved. But other than that, go for it.”

She backs up against the ring and Dean hesitates. He doesn’t want to actually hit Cas, and he is pretty sure he’s stronger than the other man. His job doesn’t allow physical weaknesses.

Castiel Novak is fairly uncertain how to continue. He did not think Janie would suggest Dean spar with him the same way Henry had. Henry was a trained professional, and Dean was a man Cas was dating. He adopts an upright stance and waits.

Janie rolls her eyes. “I promise y’all are not gonna hurt each other. I kinda don’t want to get sued here.”

Dean begrudgingly throws a right jab, which Cas successfully dodges. Cas counters with a right uppercut, which lands, making Dean stumble again.

“Dean!”

Dean shakes his head slightly and smiles. And then he no longer pulls. Both men successfully dodge, duck, and block as many of the other’s punches that land. Janie is right in her assessment they are equally matched. After Janie calls it a tie, both men are breathing heavy while leaning on their knees.

They take off their gear and put it in the corner of the ring.

“So, I don’t really know if I taught you anything tonight, Novak, but that was a hell of a match. Dean, you are welcome back anytime. You’re a really good partner for Cas.”

“Thanks Janie, I might just take you up on that.”

The woman smiles and shakes her head slightly. She pats both of them on the back before sending them to the locker room to shower.

Cas hands Dean a clean bar of soap from his bag.

“You’re kinda prepared for anything, aren’t you, Cas?”

“It does help with any unusual circumstances, such as one’s second date turning into a boxing match.”

Dean clears his throat slightly as he scratches the back of his head. “Uh, yeah, about that, uh, your boxing skills?”

Cas narrows his eyes questioningly.

“Super hot.”

Cas smiles, rolls his eyes, and steps into an open shower, closing the curtain behind him.

Dean can hear through the thin fabric: “Likewise.”

Dean snorts out a laugh as he steps into a shower of his own.

*******

The creature using Hannah’s form thinks it is almost too easy to get an apartment in this place. She is shown to a small furnished apartment on the fourth floor. It is adequate for its needs.

“This is it.”

The landlord is a burly, short man, who the creature assumes must be in his human fifties. He has slick backed salt and pepper hair, and a goatee. Hannah regards him with much the same interest one would an ant, interested in its existence, but not enough to do anything about it.

She walks around the rooms distractedly. The colors inside mirror those on the exterior of the building. The walls are a dingy yellow, with cracks running up and down the walls. The bathroom leaves a sense of disgust in the pit of the creature’s stomach, and it is thankful digestion is not a requirement of its form.

“I’ll take it.”

The landlord nods solemnly and motions for the creature to follow him to the office downstairs. On her way out of the apartment’s door, the creature runs into her new neighbor.

The girl could not be anymore than twenty. She is lovely, with dark hair and brown eyes. The creature regards her with slight curiosity.

“Oh, sorry, uh, are you moving in?”

The creature nods once, recalling from Hannah’s memories that response is appropriate.

“I’m your neighbor then, Kaia.”

“Hannah.”

*******

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Cas looks over at Dean and contemplates his possible answers. He decided to go with one that approaches the truth, that way he can ease the other man into it.

“I was approached several years ago by a special agent about a case I could potentially offer help with.”

Cas is surprised by how interestedly Dean looks at him.

“No shit? Like FBI?”

Cas bites the inside of his cheek slightly. “Well, not exactly, but…”

“If you told me you’d have to kill me?” Dean smirks.

“I would very much like to tell you, Dean.”

And there it was again, his name reverent on the blue-eyed man’s lips. Dean licks his bottom lip.

“Uh, one day, maybe, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, uh, what about the fighting part, can you tell me about that?”

“I can. I realized fairly quickly my services as a source went beyond offering intelligence.”

“The bad guys found you?”

Cas sighs, and looks directly in front of him, the night passing by in streetlights and white lines.

“I found them.”

Dean’s hand searches for his in the space between them, once found, they both hold on tightly.

“What about you, Dean?”

Dean lets a deep breath escape. He knew Cas’s admission was a lot for the man to offer, and it gave him a bit more hope about the life he was going to ask Cas to be in with him, but he couldn’t tell him yet.

“I uh… how I am, who I am, didn’t always sit too well with high school jerks and roadside bar patrons.” _Or my Dad_ , but he decided not to let that part out.

Cas squeezed his hand tighter.

“I am sorry you experienced unkindness and were forced to fight.”

Dean flashes him a grin before returning his eyes back to the road. “I wouldn’t change it for nothing, Cas.”

Castiel lets go of Dean’s hand and slides to his side, snuggling in. Dean turns to Cas and lightly kisses the side of his head before putting his arm around his shoulder. Dean sent up a silent thanks for the Impala having bench seats.

*******

“Yeah, I thought you could use some help.”

“I already took care of it.”

“Right.”

The creature posing as Lee scratches his nose and develops a defensive stance, which he learns is Lee’s second nature when in the presence of John Winchester.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

John grins and shifts the shotgun to rest against the other shoulder. “You’re going to meet up with Dean, aren’t you?”

The creature runs its hand through its hair. “No, I’m not, I just wanted to gank a couple monsters. That’s it.”

“Bullshit.”

The creature knew the man in front of him was off limits. Sir had a plan, and the plan involved not killing John Winchester, although the creature wishes he could just have been impersonated from another nothing. But Sir knew best. Apparently.

John pokes a finger in the creature’s chest. “You’re going to meet my son, and you’re going to take me with you.”

“Why do you want to see Dean now?”

“That’s my business, isn’t it boy?”

“Can’t you just call him?”

John pushes the creature into a tree, holding him up by the front of his shirt. “You got a set on you boy, and no respect. You are going to take me to Dean, you understand?”

The creature snarls, knowing ending the man in front of him would be as simple as a touch to his forehead, but he can’t. His human nostrils flare and he nods, calling upon Lee’s knowledge in order to interact.

“Yes Sir.”

*******

The outside of “The Roadhouse” is illuminated by a flickering streetlamp. Dean puts Baby in park with his left hand in order to avoid jostling Cas, whom he is enjoying having pressed up against his side. The professor is engrossed in something on his phone and didn’t even noticed they parked.

Cas mutters. “Rhea?”

Dean chuckles. “You randomly thinking about the mother of gods, Cas?”

Blue eyes turn to him with wonder and admiration. “You will never cease to amaze me, Dean Winchester.”

Dean blushes and focuses on the steering wheel. “Uh, thanks, man.”

“Claire adopted a dog from the shelter and changed her original name to Rhea.”

“Greek and Roman gods are pretty cool.” _And terrifying_. Dean noted.

Cas nods hesitantly. “They were, unique.” _And terrifying, and very, very hard to kill_. The writer thought.

Dean reluctantly removes his arm from around Castiel and puts his hand on the door handle. “You ready?”

Cas nods and follows his action with the passenger door.

“Dean!” Ellen greets as the two make their way to a table.

“Hey Ellen.” Dean gives her a hug and inclines his head to Cas.

“This is Castiel.”

Cas notes how Ellen narrows her eyes at Dean very slightly before offering him her hand. Cas shakes it and smiles.

“I’m Ellen.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Ellen nods and looks back at Dean. “What you drinking tonight, kid?”

Dean grins at Cas and shrugs. “You got a preference?”

Cas shakes his head.

Ellen frowns and her shoulders slump. “Really, Dean?”

“Come on, Ellen, you promised.”

Ellen rolls her eyes and walks away.

Dean chuckles as he slides into the booth, Cas sliding in across from him. The professor’s quizzical brow nearly sends Dean into a fit of hysterics.

“So, Ellen is kinda like a second mom, right?”

Cas nods.

“Well, she uh,,, she got to thinking one day I brought too many people here, to her bar.”

Cas’s head tilt makes Dean clear his throat and continue.

“She was concerned after… well, whatever, it don’t matter. So, she said that she was gonna serve bad drinks to everyone I brought here. And she wasn’t lying. Some of the stuff, whew, tasted like the still it came out of was made from a car battery. So, I quit.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, Ellen asked me what was going on, and I told her it was her shitty drinks. I mean, I still came in, but alone.”

Dean suddenly becomes embarrassed, and he feels Cas’s foot press up against his own, giving him the courage to continue.

“I told her the next time I brought someone, they’d be special, and to save her best bourbon for the occasion. She agreed, and uh…”

“I’m the first one since?”

Dean nods, his eyes focusing on a grain of salt left on the table from the previous occupants of the booth. When he finally looks back up, he swallows at the expression on Cas’s face.

Jo breaks their stare by setting two glasses in front of them. “Mom said if this don’t last she’s charging you for the bottle.”

Dean allows a laugh to escape through his nose. “Cas, this is Jo, the little sister I never asked for.”

“And Cas, this is Dean, the big brother I’d ask absolutely anyone to get rid of.”

They scrunch their noses up at one another in a mocking gesture. Cas feels a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Nice to meet you, Jo.”

She eyes him warily. “Oh, you’re nice. Well now I feel like an ass. Kinda.”

“How’d it go with Victor?”

Jo narrows her eyes harshly at him and puts her hands on her hips. “Did mom tell you to ask?”

Dean rubs his hand over his face. “No, I was just asking.”

Jo taps her foot and looks around before answering. “It’s going, not gone.”

Dean smirks and nods slightly. “Huh. Didn’t really see that coming.”

“Why? Because I’m a waitress and he’s an FBI agent?”

“What? No. Because you like to break up bar fights as an excuse to beat up people and he’s a law enforcement officer.”

Dean looks offended and breaks eye contact with her.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Dean. I know you don’t think like that.”

Dean did think like that, but only when it came to _him_. Of course, no one, not one single person was too good for Jo.

“Yeah, no, it’s okay.”

“Lonnie dropped by tonight, kinda I don’t know…”

Dean’s eyes snap back up to hers, something wild and untamed in them.

“I handled it.”

Dean’s brow furrows and Jo rolls her eyes.

“I handled it, Dean. I’m gonna bring you back your favorite, okay?” With a nod to Cas she hurries away from the table.

“Are you all right, Dean?”

The green-eyed man swirls the contents of his glass before taking a sip.

“Yeah, uh… Lonnie is Jo’s ex, and a piece of shit.”

Cas nods. “You are a good friend.”

Dean snorts slightly, disbelief apparent in the action. Cas places his hand on top of his. Dean looks to him.

“You brought me here because you see something in me. Why is it so hard for you to believe I see something in you?”

Dean moves his hand so that their palms are touching, he lightly traces the inside of Castiel’s wrist.

“I’ve always been a grunt, Cas, a body.”

Cas shuts his eyes in realization, winces slightly before opening them once more. “I haven’t helped that have I?”

Dean looks at him questioningly, continuing to stroke his wrist. “Wait, you mean because you want to sleep with me?”

Cas nods.

“No, no, no. I uh, yeah, I want that too, like a lot. I’m honored you want me that way, Cas, you’re not the problem, man.”

“These last few days have been some of the most enjoyable in my life, Dean, and we haven’t even kissed. You excite me in ways I never thought imaginable. I look forward to cooking with you, which as my niece described in embarrassing detail, I cannot do. You have made something I abhorred and was frankly terrified of, amusing.”

Dean’s eyes shine as he lifts Cas’s hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it.

“Of course, I want to sleep with you, you are incredibly gorgeous. But if you said that would never happen, that we could never be more physically intimate than we are right now, I would still continue this course with you. No matter what our future does or does not hold, you will never simply be a body to me, Dean.”

And that made Dean want to take Cas back outside and show him just how spacious the backseat of a 67’ Chevy could be.

Jo plops a plate of chili cheese fries in-between them, notices the placement of their hands on the table, smirks, and walks off.

“She very much acts like a little sister.”

Dean chuckles as he lifts a very cheesy fry off the plate with his free hand. “Oh yeah. You already know about Sammy, what about you?”

“You mean my family?”

Dean nods as he shoves the fry uncouthly into his mouth.

“You know about Jimmy.” Cas begins to trace the vein in Dean’s wrist with his forefinger. “I have older brothers as well. Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel.”

Dean’s mouth turns upward at Cas’s tone when he said Gabriel’s name. “So, what’s the deal with Gabe?”

And then Cas full on sighs as he wrangles a fry out of its cheese hold. “He directs pornography in Los Angeles.”

Dean had to work to keep his food from being a projectile. He roughly swallows, coughs again, finishes off his drink, and clears his throat. All while still tracing the inside of Cas’s wrist.

“Really?”

“Yes, he is…” Cas looks up to the ceiling. “Eccentric.”

“That’s a word for it.”

“It can be embarrassing.” Hannah thought it was all types of embarrassing and didn’t want Castiel to mention it in any setting. Cas was used to the distaste.

“Dude, I think it’s awesome!”

Cas laughed; disbelief apparent in the sound. “You don’t find it unsavory?”

“Uh… no?”

Dean continues eating and slightly wonders if he’s seen one of the films Gabe directed.

“So, uh… does he only direct?”

“Um… no, he writes some too, I believe. He tried starring in one as well, but I don’t think he met all the… uh… qualifications.”

Cas sighs at Dean’s questioning look.

“Something about a kielbasa.”

“The writing or qualifications?”

Cas shrugs. “I didn’t ask.”

Dean laughs, food still in his mouth. Instead of finding it repulsive, Cas finds it oddly charming.

“Okay, what about the other two?”

“Michael is the CEO of an evangelical television station and Raphael is lead security for a writer of a series of books.”

Dean laughs again. “Oh man, I bet your Thanksgivings are pure gold.”

Cas allows a laugh to escape his nostrils. “They are uh, not without interest.” He purses his lips and chuckles slightly.

“All right, parents?”

Cas narrows his eyes. “I have a father, Chuck, who drops in and out of our lives. It’s been more out than in lately though.”

Dean waits for the continuation of that statement, but there isn’t one. He eats a few more fries and smiles at Jo as she brings them another round.

Cas looks down at their hands and smiles slightly, enjoying the connection. “I never knew my mother.”

Dean looks at him, compassion and kindness apparent in his emerald eyes. Cas admires him for it and knows he has found a safe space.

“My mother died giving birth to Jimmy and me. Growing up, I felt as if Chuck resented me for it somewhat, us rather. We clung to each other. I often wondered if my older brothers resented us as well. Occasionally they acted as if they did, except for Gabriel.”

Cas smiles sadly at him, and Dean can feel a piece of his heart break. He turns his hand so their fingers are once more interlaced.

Dean pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and bites at the skin. “My dad left when I was sixteen, Sammy was twelve. I knew it was my fault too, you know? Why mom kicked him out, it was all me.”

Cas squeezes his hand, and Dean can feel tears threaten his eyes. “I just… you’re not alone, Cas, okay?”

Cas takes Dean’s hand this time and brings it to his mouth, kissing each one of his fingers in turn. “You are extraordinarily kind, Dean Winchester, and I feel privileged for having met you.”

Dean was pretty sure this man was it, the beginning and end of everything. His everything in general. Cas made him feel stronger, smarter, sexier than he had felt with anyone, ever. He wanted to compliment him and be complimented by him. He wanted to fight alongside him, fight for him. He wanted their lives to be full of miniseries, movies, date nights. He wanted everything with Cas, because everything seemed like too much and too little all at once.

Fuck.

Was this, love?

*******

Dean wakes up to Cas curled into him, with Dean’s arms encompassing him. Fully clothed. On a couch. That was not theirs.

He looks around and sees Bobby leaning against the counter, staring at them.

“About time you two idjits woke up.”

Cas groans and Dean subconsciously pulls him closer.

“Bobby? What the hell?” Dean’s voice is forced, his mouth dry and feeling like its full of shit simultaneously.

“You two drank Ellen’s best bourbon, and all but passed out at a table. She drove you back here.”

Bobby was nursing a cup of coffee and Dean really wanted some.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice was even deeper somehow, and Dean unsuccessfully tried to keep the effects of the sound from going straight to his crotch.

“Hey Cas.”

Castiel opens one eye to see a man in his early sixties with an open plaid shirt worn over a well-worn t-shirt and a trucker’s cap staring at him.

“Umm, where are we, Dean?”

“Bobby’s.”

“That does not fully answer my question.”

Dean pats Cas’s arm to indicate he should sit up, he does so, causing his head to swim in pain.

“Oh, this is hell. Is this hell?’

Dean chuckles as he goes to get them both a glass of water.

“Would you be with me in hell, hot stuff?”

At least he managed to get a half smile out of the professor.

“Not unless they have developed some new form of torture involving unfilled fantasies.”

Dean blushed like no other and Bobby stared at him. Cas suddenly remembered they were not at home and crimson flooded his cheeks.

“Sir, I apologize. That was inappropriate, I am so, so sorry.”

Bobby just rolled his eyes. “Bobby, since Dean here didn’t think I was worth an introduction.”

“Castiel.”

Bobby squints as he takes a sip from his battered mug. “Like the angel?”

Cas’s gaze meets the older man’s instantly. “Yes, like that.”

“Your folks Catholic or something?”

Dean looks slightly horrified, remembers Bobby is Bobby, shrugs, and continues making coffee.

“My mother was, yes. I was the second twin born, and it was her wish for the ‘miracle baby’ as she called it, since she was only expecting one child, to be named after the angel responsible for the day.”

Bobby nods as he finishes the dregs, “Thursday baby, huh?”

Cas nods, a full smile on his lips.

“Well, I figure since you two drank my wife’s most expensive bottle of liquor and snuggled on my couch all night, you owe me breakfast. And Jo’s new whatever is coming by, so uh, make it for six, huh princess?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I would love to hear from you guys!!


	8. Catch and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean make breakfast, John follows Lee, The Void makes a discovery, Balthazar makes a call, and misunderstandings accrue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all of the comments, kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks. They warm my heart and make me smile, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate all of them!
> 
> I am so sorry it took me so long to update! This chapter is a lengthy one and took quite a bit to cover. 
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any other TV Show, Movie, Book, Website, and/or app mentioned in this tale. 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: This chapter is a bit of a rough one. John's abuse (to an adult Dean) is mentioned as well as a continuation of John's homophobic slurs. Angst abounds in this chapter and the last bit was actually difficult for me to write because of its intensity. That being said, I am going to try to explain where that bit is concerned. Dean's behavior may seem uncharacteristic, and I completely understand if that is how y'all feel as readers. I chose to write it this way based on the behavior of Dean in 15x3 as well as some Season 14 episodes. There are no spoilers here however, as this is an alternate universe. I tried to draw the characterization from Dean's seeming withdrawal when he is feels he is hurt by someone he loves.  
> I promise this story has a very happy ending (I'm thinking even sappy here, y'all) so please keep that in mind when reading this chapter. And I promise it will all be resolved very quickly. 
> 
> Thank you all so, so much for reading!! I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Castiel looks down at his attire and back up at Dean.

“I am dirty.”

“Yeah, getting passed out drunk will do that to ya.”

Cas sighs and looks to the ceiling. Dean walks overs to him and sits on the coffee table across from him.

“I got a couple of change of clothes in the back of Baby, and Ellen always keeps extra shit like toothbrushes and soap on hand.”

“The Impala is at The Roadhouse, Dean.”

Dean swallows at the gruff voice perfectly saying his name, the sleep making it even deeper. He clears his throat slightly.

“Bobby usually brings her back here. I bet you whipping up the eggs she’s in the driveway.”

Cas smiles slightly, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s a bet.”

*******

The Void sits in a throne covered with deep red velvet, the color resembling dried blood. His eyes languidly roll up, following the smoke rings emerging from his thin lips. His lips form into a grimace as he feels a rip form along his lower calf.

His eyes focus on a tear present in his right forefinger. He moves his fingers slowly, flexing them, curling and uncurling his hand into a fist. He leans his head back onto the plush velvet and closes his eyes. He searches the globe for his emissaries to investigate their progress.

*******

Dean throws a pair of jeans and a t-shirt onto Cas’s lap.

“Told ya.” He smirks as he motions for Cas to follow him into the bathroom.

Dean opens a drawer and pulls out two new toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste. He also gets out a new bar of soap and a travel sized thing of shampoo.

They brushed their teeth side by side. Dean shoved Cas in the shower first, he leaves to go in search of towels. When he returns, he lays the towel on the shower rod. Cas immediately grabs and wraps it around his waist, opening the curtain and stepping on the bathmat right in front of Dean.

Cas smirks at Dean’s wide eyes. Dean’s eyes travel up and down Cas’s body, he looks up at the ceiling and shifts from foot to foot.

“Your clothes are uh… on the counter there.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean feels Cas move closer to him, and when he looks back down, Cas’s mouth is mere inches from his own.

“Cas…”

“Yes, Dean?”

Fuck it. I mean, how epic can epic be really? He puts his hands on Cas’s waist, half of his hand touches terry cloth and half touches skin. The presence of heat surges throughout his body and he inclines his head toward the other man’s. As Cas attempts to close the distance, Dean shies away.

Cas backs up, rejection overtaking every other emotion. “I am sorry, I must’ve misread the situation.”

Fuck. Dean scratches the back of his head and tilts Cas’s chin up, so their eyes are once more meeting.

“You were not misreading anything, man. I told you last night, and I’ll tell you every day for as long as it takes, I fucking want you so bad, but…”

“You want it to be special.”

“Yeah, and uh… you know, the whole wooing thing.”

Cas nods, contemplative. “I understand, Dean. You want our first kiss to be perfect.”

Dean nods. “Yeah, man, I just want this to be right.”

Cas steps closer once more and runs his finger down Dean’s jawline. He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and smiles slightly at the reactions Dean’s body is giving him.

“Well then, I am letting you be in charge of our first official kiss.” He leans forward and plants gentle kisses along Dean’s jawline, the man’s stubble tickling the sensitive skin. “But, I do not see why we cannot work within other parameters.” He moves from his jaw to his neck and begins trailing his lips up and down.

Dean allows a small moan to escape his throat and Cas scoots them back until they are against the wall. Cas continues to kiss Dean’s neck and settles on a spot that will hidden by Dean’s t-shirt.

“Fuck, Cas…”

Dean’s back arches slightly, and his hands try to find purchase on the wall, the movement causes a picture that was hanging to fall. Cas catches it with one hand, and replaces it on the nail, without ever moving from his spot on Dean’s neck.

That motion caused blood to rush straight to Dean’s dick and he grabbed Cas’s ass with both hands and pulls Cas flush against him, their crotches pressed together. A loan guttural moan escapes Cas’s throat and Dean grabs onto his ass even tighter. Cas moves against him, the towel somehow still staying on. His chosen spot on Dean’s neck is forgotten as Dean’s lips moves to his shoulder. Dean is able to elicit a mixture of pleasure and pain that makes Cas forget where he is.

“Dean, I…”

“Cas…Babe…”

The term of endearment caused Cas to regain control and he once more begins his work on Dean’s neck, the other man responding to every movement beautifully. Cas wants nothing more than to continue this course of action, but he remembers Dean’s words from the previous night about how he felt as if he were just a body. He slowly backs up and looks into Dean’s beautiful eyes, the green barely apparent now as his pupils are dilated.

“I believe we are contracted to cook breakfast for six people in a matter of minutes.” He smiles as he traces Dean’s beautiful lips with his forefinger.

“You are beautiful and kind, Dean Winchester. I am very much looking forward to our first kiss, and I hope it is only the beginning of many firsts.”

Dean brings their foreheads together. “You’re fucking amazing, Cas, you know that? And I am going to make it unforgettable, I promise.”

“Everything with you is unforgettable, Dean.”

*******

The creature posing as Lee Webb looks into the rearview mirror of his vintage Mustang to see the truck following him. He scowls at the reflection. Nothing in Lee’s memory suggested the Winchester patriarch would want to see his children. He knows he must need something from Dean. He examines Lee’s memories. Money. The hunter probably needed money.

_Lee walks into the apartment to find his boyfriend sitting on the couch, an ice pack on his arm._

_“Hey Babe, what happened?”_

_Lee walks over and gently pulls the ice pack away to inspect Dean’s wound. He goes to the bathroom to get the first aid kit to redo the stitches. He sits next to Dean and begins to clean the wound._

_“Dad stopped by.” A sardonic laugh escapes Dean’s lips, making Lee wince._

_“What did he want?”_

_“Guess.”_

_Lee threads his needle carefully before beginning to work on Dean’s arm. He gently begins to stitch._

_“How much you end up giving him?”_

_“A couple hundred.”_

_Lee nods, and Dean can feel his boyfriend’s disappointment. It soon turns to anger and he all but snatches his arm from Lee’s grasp._

_“Dean, stop. I’m not mad at you sweetheart, I’m mad at him.”_

_Dean calms, a sigh escaping his nostrils. “I told him, Lee.”_

_“About us, Babe? Thought he already knew.”_

_“No, about the life, about what we do.”_

_Lee stops his stitching to search Dean’s face. “Okay.”_

_Dean scoffs. “You’re not mad at me?”_

_“For what? You’re the one who has to deal with this burden or whatever. I just choose to help you because I love you. I still have a nine to five.”_

_Dean waits for Lee to tie off his thread before he leans into his shoulder. “I don’t deserve you.”_

_Lee wraps his arm around his boyfriend. “The fuck you don’t. I choose to be here every day Dean. Not because of some weird sense of duty or some fucking shit like that. I fucking love you and if you think telling John was the right thing, I support you or whatever, just don’t act like you don’t deserve me, or Sam, or Jess, because that is total bullshit.”_

_“You basically make all the money.”_

_“You think I care about that? I’m good at what I do, Dean, I’m proud to bring home that money so you can save the fucking world. The world. You think that compares to running a restaurant? Fuck no. But I can support you and help out Sam and Jess, and I’m fucking proud of that. And you. I am so proud of you, Babe.”_

_Dean buries his face into Lee’s shoulder, and Lee kisses the top of his head repeatedly._

The creature impersonating Lee brings that memory to the forefront of the nothing, ensuring he can remember exactly who John and Lee are to Dean. He makes a note to return to more memories on the long drive to Atlanta.

*******

Dean walks into the kitchen to find Cas staring helplessly at a bag of flour and half gallon container of buttermilk. The man has put Crisco into a large glass bowl and found a pastry blender but seems stuck after that bit. Dean chuckles slightly as he makes his way over to him.

“Having trouble, Cas?”

“I am unsure of how to proceed. What is this substance, exactly?”

Dean looks into the bowl and smiles. He wraps his arms around Cas’s waist and tries to ignore just how good the other man looks in _his_ jeans.

“Trust me, man, you don’t want to know. How about I finish up the biscuits, you find me a sheet pan, turn the oven to four-twenty-five, and butter the pan huh? And uh, get the bacon and eggs out of the fridge. And uh, maybe see if Ellen has any fruit?”

Cas nods as Dean releases his hold. Cas goes around the kitchen completing his tasks, and Dean sets to finishing the biscuits.

Dean is finishing scrambling the eggs and Cas is cutting up a cantaloupe when Bobby walks in.

“You two almost done? Jo’s car is in the driveway.”

“Yeah, Bobby, we’re almost ready. Thanks for bringing home Baby.”

“I always bring Baby home, idjit.”

Cas smiles slightly at the two’s interactions. He could tell Bobby was pretty much Dean’s father, and after the man’s confession about his Dad last night, Cas knew how important that figure was.

Bobby sits down at the island and looks at Cas.

“So, what do you do?”

“I am a professor.”

“Yeah, what you teach?”

“Religious studies and Mythology.”

Bobby watches with interest as Cas precisely cuts the fruit and places it into a glass bowl.

Dean walks over to put a plate of bacon on the island next to the plates. He kisses Cas slightly on the cheek, causing the man to blush.

“He’s being modest, Bobby. He’s a tenured Professor at Stanford and has two Doctorates, one in Religious Studies, and one in Philosophy with a concentration in culture and performance. And he’s published just about in every academic English journal ever.”

Cas looks at him, slack jawed.

Dean shrugs, “I talked to Sammy. We’re kinda both in awe of you, Cas.”

Bobby rolls his eyes. “I ain’t here so you two can make googly eyes at each other.”

Cas focuses on the melon in front of him once more, tears stinging his blue eyes. He sighs deeply as he places the last of the orange fruit into the bowl.

Bobby smiles behind his mug. He’d been through a lot with Dean, helped get the kid through that breakup with Lee, and wanted that boy to be so damn happy it was sickening. And if Bobby was being honest with himself, he kinda seemed that way with Cas. He’d only ever seen Dean that proud of two people in his entire life: Sam and Lee. Cas was throwing his hat in the ring and Bobby was gonna hope for the best.

He turns when he hears the front door open.

Jo comes into the kitchen, Victor following behind in a nice suit. He nods to everyone in the room. His eyes narrow at Castiel for a moment before he turns his attention back to Dean.

“Dean.”

“Victor.”

*******

John Winchester follows the Mustang with malice written in his eyes. Life had not been easy for the aging hunter, and he blamed all his ills on his eldest son. Who, in spite of everything John instilled in the boy, turned out to be nothing but a waste of a man. Yeah, okay, he ganked some monsters but only because he was _chosen_. John did a better job as just a regular man. Because he was a _man_.

John didn’t see Mary kicking him out as his fault, he saw it as Dean’s. Because at the end of the day, it was Dean’s actions that made John act the way he did. It wasn’t his fault, he was only reacting the way he needed to as a father, but Mary didn’t see it that way.

John could count on one hand all the things Dean did for him. He gave him money from time to time and introduced him to killing monsters. But that was all the kid was good for. John scoffs as he thinks about the man driving the car he’s following.

_“Fuck, Dean, I didn’t think you’d bring your fucking boyfriend.”_

_Dean closes his eyes as he shifts the shotgun in his hands._

_“Dad, Lee knows how to fight and kill these things, we need the backup.”_

_John gets mere inches away from Dean’s face, his hand bunching up the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt. Dean can feel Lee stir beside him, and he puts his hand down, palm facing back, indicating Lee should step down. He reluctantly does so, every instinct telling him to protect Dean._

_“I’m a US Marine, I don’t need no damn backup from no fucking pansy.”_

_Dean swallows, face set. Lee can feel his boyfriend’s fear, his resoluteness, and his heart breaks a bit._

_“I know, Dad, but Lee has fought ghosts before and…”_

_While Dean’s attention was on his father Lee pulls John off of him and shoves him to the ground with one strong arm._

_“Get up.” Lee hisses from between gritted teeth._

_“Lee!”_

_Lee’s blue eyes dart once to his boyfriend, determination present in his face. He gives Dean the same hand motion Dean gave him. With a reluctance foreign to the green-eyed man, he nods and backs up._

_“You son-of-a-bitch, I’ll kill you for that.”_

_“Try.”_

_John gets up swiftly and soon begins to circle Lee, who watches every move. John takes the first punch, misses his mark due to Lee’s blocking. Lee quickly gets the upper hand, knocking John on his back with his foot on his chest._

_John begins laughing. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”_

_Lee presses down harder, hatred bubbling at the surface for the man who hurt the love of his life._

_“That’s enough, Lee.”_

_Lee removes his foot at the behest of his boyfriend._

_“We good?”_

_John stands, brushing the dust off his pants. “Yeah, we’re good.”_

_Lee nods, takes his shotgun from Dean, and marches into the cabin._

*******

Victor side-eyes Castiel every so often as they eat breakfast, making the professor shift in his seat.

“Vic, what the hell?”

The FBI agent looks to Dean, “Excuse me?”

“You keep staring at Cas. I mean, I know he’s hot, but like, your girlfriend is right there, Dude.”

Victor narrows his eyes at Dean as he gestures towards him with his fork. “Listen here, Winchester, he looks familiar, okay, and I can’t place him.”

“I perhaps have one of those faces?”

Dean looks at him with a ‘what the fuck’ face. “Cas, you look like nobody I’ve ever seen, and believe me, I’d have noticed.”

Castiel blushes as he spears a piece of fruit.

“Victor, maybe you can try to ‘place’ Cas when you’re not meeting my parents?” Jo nudges him with an elbow to the ribs.

“I apologize, I should not have been focusing on work. Jo tells me you own a bar Misses Singer?”

Ellen raises an eyebrow while making eye contact with her husband before looking at Victor. “It’s just Ellen, and yeah, The Roadhouse. Local dive bar.”

“Amazing cheese fries.” Dean mutters, biscuit and gravy in his mouth.

Cas ‘hums’ in agreement.

Victor nods as he looks at Bobby, “And you own a shooting range, is that correct Sir?”

Dean stares once more at his friend. “Dude, can you make anything sound like an interrogation?”

Castiel swallows heavily as he tries to avoid eye contact with Victor. There are some things in his line of work that are not necessarily FBI approved. He takes several sips of his coffee.

“That is not my intention, I am simply…” He trails off, causing Dean to smirk.

“Well, son-of-a-bitch, you’re nervous.” Dean laughs as Victor narrows his eyes once more.

“Winchester, I’m warning you…”

“Oh, come on Vic, it’s just Bobby and Ellen, you hit the jackpot as far as potential in-laws are concerned.”

Jo throws a biscuit at him, which Dean catches perfectly and takes a bite of before scrunching his nose at Jo. She huffs angrily and crosses her arms.

Bobby sighs and readjusts his trucker’s cap. “Yeah, I own a shootin’ range.” He gives Dean a warning look that doesn’t do much to quell Dean’s mischievousness.

“Victor, is your base in Atlanta?”

The FBI agent is grateful for the distraction Ellen offers him. “Yes ma’am, I am at the field office here.”

“What is it that you do Castiel?” Victor smiles slightly as he makes eye contact with the professor.

“I teach.”

Dean narrows his eyes, furrows his brow, and then it clicks. Cas’s confession of working as a type of informant may have put him in cahoots with Victor, or Victor’s men. That’s probably why Victor thought he looked familiar.

Victor nods slightly. “What do you teach?”

“Umm… college.”

Fuck. Cas was never this awkward. Everyone was looking at him strangely. He must have felt the stares because he excused himself to go outside for a moment. Dean’s heart sunk at the thought he made Cas uncomfortable.

“Your boyfriend’s a strange duck, Winchester.”

“Shut up Vic.”

“He was all charm at The Roadhouse last night, it must be you, Vic.” Jo smiles smugly at her boyfriend. He rolls his eyes at her, but a hint of a smile plays at the right corner of his lip.

Bobby and Ellen make eye contact across the table and mirror smiles, amusement at their kids present in the gesture.

*******

The Void ponders the very fabric of his existence. He fingers one of the tears gently, pulling back slightly on the material that makes up his form. The tear opens further, causing pain to shoot up his arm. He winces slightly, as the wooden tip of the pipe is held taunt between perfect, gritted teeth.

What is nothing but the absence of everything? And what is everything but a culmination of all that is and all there was and all there will ever be? Everything pulled him from the nothing, and everything could destroy him. He runs his eyes over the length of his long arm and shudders at all the fissures in the make-shift flesh.

He inhales deeply, allowing the sweet smoke to fill his formed lungs. He releases his breath in puffs of smoke. The rings encompass and encircle his head, creating a type of mobile. He watches as they disappear into the nothingness above him, entranced.

The creatures known as Hannah and Lee were settling in wonderfully well. The imposter Lee was associating with John Winchester, just as the Void knew he would. The two men combined should make easy work of their job. The being of Hannah was more or less a failsafe, a construction created to be fallen back on, a safety net, if one will.

However, Hannah and Lee were created for the long game, and Sir needed a solution for the fissures now. He knew everything could fill the nothing, and he smiled with thin closed lips when he realizes the solution had been on earth all along.

*******

Cas leans against the Impala, breathing deeply. An FBI agent, really? He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and answers it quickly.

“You did erase all those security cameras, correct?”

_“Well, hello to you too darling. What’s the matter Cassie, someone giving you trouble?”_

Cas finds a certain type of reassurance in the accent and endearments. “I’m having brunch with an FBI agent.”

He can hear a slight chuckle and imagines the angel taking a sip of his drink he always seemed to have before answering.

_“Should I be jealous?”_

“Balthazar, I am a bit concerned here, he keeps staring at me.”

_“Well, you are a work of art darling.”_

Cas smiles in spite of himself. “How are you, Balthazar?”

_“You know me.”_

“Indeed, that is what concerns me.”

_“Ah, funny Cassie. Yes, I erased any and all footage that contained your, or our, escapades. Do not concern yourself on that front.”_

Cas closes his eyes. “I guess you are indicating there is a front on which to be concerned then, yes?”

_“The sample of goo you gave me?”_

“Yes?”

_“It is nothing.”_

Cas opens his eyes only to scrunch them. “Beg pardon?”

_“Just that, darling, it is nothing. There are no atoms, molecules, anything present in it, although it is a substance, it consists of nothing.”_

“That’s not possible. It was a solid.”

_“Indeed, however, we often deal in the impossible, you and I.”_

Cas smiles again at Balthazar’s phrasing. “Okay, so what is made up of nothing?”

_“Ah, darling, I fear that is something we must discover.”_

Cas looks around as he hears footsteps and his eyes rest on Dean.

“I have to go, I’ll call you later.”

_“I won’t hold my breath.”_

Cas rolls his eyes. “You don’t even have to breathe.”

_“Take the sentiment in the way it was intended, darling.”_

Cas chuckles. “Good-bye.”

_“Good-bye Cassie.”_

Dean stands beside him as Castiel slips the phone back into his pocket.

“I’m so sorry man, Vic can kinda forget he’s not in the interrogation room.”

Cas takes Dean’s hands in his own and offers him a sad type of smile. “I apologize for being so withdrawn, I do want to get to know your family.”

Dean licks his bottom lip as he looks at their intertwined fingers. “Is it because of your uh, job? Do you know Vic?”

Cas breathes in quickly. “Oh, no. I have never met Victor.” He sighs, searching the skies for a type of answer. “I… my line of work… occasionally can venture on the side of the seemingly illegal?” Cas grimaces as he returns his attention back to the man in front of him.

“Seemingly illegal?”

“There are jobs that have to be done, certain _exterminations_ that have to be made, that the low-level authorities are not privy to.”

Castiel knew that was too much information, and probably scary information at that. He wouldn’t blame Dean for driving away in the Impala and changing the locks on his house. Instead Dean takes his hands from Cas’s and places them on his hips.

“Cas, are you a hitman for like the CIA or NSA or something?”

Dean’s eyes were so earnest, so bright, so trusting, that Cas all but melted. He swallowed and gets lost in the green.

“In a way?”

Dean processes. He nods slowly, realizing he is also a type of hitman. He clears his throat and stares into eyes that feel like home.

“Well, that explains the muscles, the fighting skills, and the knife skills.” His eyes hold something else as he asks, “How are you with guns?”

Cas sighs, marveling at Dean’s acceptance of this. Especially because Dean must think he kills _humans_ , and not monsters. Dean didn’t even flinch. He really hoped the man he so readily adored was not some type of psychopath.

“I… am not proficient in guns. I can shoot and usually hit my target, but my skills are not what they should be, admittedly.”

Dean runs his tongue over his top lip as he bends to whisper in Cas’s ear, “Well, I guess there’s something I can teach you then.”

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s back, and they embrace.

*******

The creature drives down state highways mechanically, going through Lee’s memories regarding one John Winchester.

_Lee wakes up to Dean pulling on a pair of jeans._

_“Whatcha doin’ Babe?”_

_Lee rolls over to look at the clock._

_“It’s three forty-seven, come back to bed.”_

_Dean looks to him with red-rimmed eyes. Lee sits up immediately and turns on the light._

_“Dean, what’s wrong?”_

_“Uh… nothing Babe, go back to sleep. Dad called, and I gotta go meet up with him.”_

_Lee allows air to escape his nostrils. “Or he’ll come here, upset Sam?”_

_“Yeah, something like that.” Dean pulls a t-shirt over his head before bending over to give Lee a quick kiss on the lips._

_“How much does he want?”_

_Dean scoffs. “Guess.”_

_“Whatever we got?”_

_Dean pulls his lips into a fake smile, causing Lee’s heart to break a little bit more._

_“I’ll go with you.”_

_Dean places a hand on his shoulder. “No, I got this. I’ll be back in a few hours.”_

_Lee lets him go._

Even for a creature that was made from nothing, the being finds John Winchester detestable. He wonders if that is from Lee’s memory or its own growing emotion.

*******

Cas and Dean take their seats once again at the table and Victor looks at Castiel apologetically.

“I am sorry for interrogating you.”

He looks to Jo for approval, who nods.

“I accept your apology and thank you for offering it.”

“All right, time to turn the tables. What’s your most interesting case, Special Agent?” Bobby crunches on a slice of bacon after his inquiry.

Victor huffs out a type of laugh. “Oh, well, I suppose that would involve Winchester.”

Everyone at the table freezes, except for Cas who looks confused.

“You were involved in a case for the FBI, Dean?”

Victor looks at Dean with an expression that can only be read as ‘really?’.

Dean clears his throat and begins to spin a yarn. “Uh, yeah. Umm… I got involved in some shady business dealings with an airplane sale. I kinda could tell it wasn’t legit, so I called up the FBI.”

Victor intervenes to help his stupid friend who decided not to tell everyone beforehand that his new boyfriend was not in the loop on the _life_.

“Dean offered to make the sale so we could catch the perpetrator in an act of fraud. As soon as the check was signed, the perp was apprehended. Dean later testified in court.”

“You sold planes?”

“Uh, yeah. Used planes.”

“Oh.” Cas looks at his plate like it is the most interesting thing in the world. He remembers vaguely Elvis went through something similar with the FBI. He pushes his luck.

“Where at?”

“Oh, uh, Memphis.”

Cas’s sapphire eyes catch emerald ones, and either Dean is really good at lying or he really did sell planes in Memphis, just like Elvis. Cas nods and resumes eating.

The rest of the meal is eaten in relative silence, so that no one will let anything slip about Dean’s real job.

*******

_The ghosts were surrounding the trio, they stood in a type of triangle, firing off salt rounds every so often._

_“We’re gonna have to get to the basement.” Dean shouted above the noise._

_“I’ll go.” Lee shouts back._

_“Like hell you will!”_

_Before Lee can stop him, Dean breaks free of the group’s shape and runs towards the house’s staircase._

_“Son of a bitch!” Lee yells as he shoots a ghost about to reach into John’s chest. He nudges John with his shoulder to indicate they should follow Dean._

_They cover each other effectively as they make their way downstairs. When they get there Dean is fighting off a ghost that looks like it came straight from “Oliver Twist”._

_Lee rushes to his aid as John begins to pour lighter fluid onto the various corpses scattered on the floor. He feels a ghost closing in on his back and he turns around quickly to fill it full of salt. He completes his task and sets the corpses on fire._

_He turns to see the ghost Dean and Lee were still struggling with go up in flames and smiles to himself. He scoffs and runs a hand through his beard._

_“How long you two been doin’ this?”_

_Lee’s face turns into something dangerous. He drapes Dean’s arm over his shoulder and helps him up the stairs before the whole place burns down._

John Winchester knows his son is all but useless, but the usefulness he does provide can be useful to _him_.

*******

“Sorry to kinda throw you into my family there, Cas.”

Cas snuggles more into Dean’s side. “I very much enjoy meeting the people closest to you, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t believe the perfectness of this, of _Cas_. The man instantly moved to his side when they got into the Impala, as if he had just always fit there. Their bodies molded perfectly together, and Dean wondered why he hadn’t been fortunate enough to meet Cas sooner.

“So, is a Professor just your cover job?”

Cas laughs, a mirthful sound that fills Dean’s soul with delight.

“No, I am very much a Professor first.”

Dean nods. “So, uh, I’m guessing you already told me too much, huh?”

Cas contemplates, thoughtfulness overtakes his features, and Dean finds himself entranced. “I would like to tell you everything, Dean, one day very soon. I would also like to learn more about you.”

“I ain’t all that interesting, Cas.”

“I beg to differ. You sold planes in Memphis and assisted the FBI in arresting a conman. That is very interesting.”

Dean shifts uncomfortably as he sniffs. “Yeah, uh, I guess that’s kinda interesting.”

Cas bites the inside of his cheek. “Very.”

*******

_Lee turns Dean’s cheek so the newly forming bruise is more visible. Anger rises and bubbles in Lee’s chest. Dean grabs his wrist as Lee turns to grab his jacket._

_“Babe, it’s not worth it.”_

_Tears sting Lee’s eyes as he turns back to the man he loves._

_“It will be to me.”_

_Dean sighs as he looks to the ceiling._

_“He was drunk.”_

_“He’s always fucking drunk, Dean.”_

_“Not when he hunts.”_

_“So, what? You’re excusing this because he what? Needed a hit?”_

_“I’m not excusing anything, man, okay? I just don’t see how this is any of your fucking business.”_

_Lee scoffs as he nods. “Right. Because what, he’s not my dad? Don’t you fucking get it, Dean? I’m in love with you. You are the fucking Love of my Life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you absolute stubborn obstinate…”_

_Dean silences him with a forceful kiss._

_“Just shut up, you’re rambling.”_

_Lee smiles in spite of himself._

_“Was he mad cause it wasn’t enough?”_

_Dean shrugs. “Does it matter? He didn’t come here, he didn’t see Sammy, that’s all that matters.”_

_“I’m going with you next time.”_

_“Yeah, okay.”_

The creature contemplates pulling over and ending John Winchester right now, but he would rather not face Sir’s wrath. The being becomes a bit concerned that it is starting to _feel_ for the target. He assumes that feelings were not part of the assignment.

*******

The angel sits in the chair, drink in hand. He does not even turn his head when he hears the door open.

“Dean, I do wish you would stay at home more, you know those sigils I carved into your ribs hide you from me as well as the other members of the host, and you never answer your phone. It is rather a bore waiting here, you know.”

Dean walks over to him, panic rising into his eyes. “Fuck it all Balthazar, you gotta get outta here, I’ll meet you somewhere else later, but I got a new roommate, and he…”

“Balthazar? What are you doing here?”

“Cassie, darling?” The angel sighs.

Dean’s panic changes to betrayal as he quickly advances upon Cas and pins him to the wall.

“Dean, what…”

“Shut up.” His eyes sting and he forces the tears back, he will not cry in front of either of them.

Cas’s eyes narrow with some type of pain Dean tries not focus on. He switches their position so that they are now against the shut door.

Cas stares at him intently, a type of disappointment and a wildness apparent in blue eyes.

Dean shuffles and scoffs. “Cas, not for nothing, but the last time someone looked at me like that… I got laid.”

In response to Dean’s demeaning quip, Cas pins Dean harder and slots his leg between those of the other man’s. Dean’s breathing becomes increased, and Cas can feel Dean’s heartbeat quicken under his arm. Cas realizes violence must be Dean’s first instinct when he feels he is hurt in some way and Castiel backs up. He purses his lips, removes his body completely from Dean’s and faces Balthazar.

“I assume you are here for a reason.”

The angel sighs deeply. “So, we’re not getting a show then, pity.”

Dean once more gets close to Cas, “So you’re what, spying on me? You know who spies, Cas? Spies.”

Balthazar rolls his eyes. “Witty as ever, Dean.”

“I am not spying on you, Dean.”

“Then why the fuck are you here, man?”

Dean marches into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. He comes back into the room and slumps onto the couch.

Castiel sits in the unoccupied chair. “I am here because you placed a Craigslist ad and I am on sabbatical.”

“Bullshit.”

“He’s not fabricating, Dean. I was unaware of Cassie’s whereabouts. He wears the same brand as you.”

“So what, we’re both your bitch?”

“Hardly. Castiel is an informant of sorts.”

Dean laughs, a mirthless sound that send shivers down Castiel’s spine.

“So only I’m your bitch?”

He is unsuccessful in keeping the tears in. Castiel wants nothing more than to physically comfort him, offer soothing words, but he knows he will get no where right now, he can feel Dean’s retreat into himself in a type of protection. Cas can almost feel a chip being chiseled from his heart, or perhaps it was his soul.

Castiel looks to his friend, a companion who has remained steadfast over the years. He is almost willing the angel to be kind, offer support. He can tell the angel is struggling with his words.

“I am your Guardian, Dean. You are a Chosen One, there is nothing more or less to our relationship.”

Dean rolls his eyes as he finishes his beer and goes to get what Cas assumes is another one. Instead he comes back with a bottle of Jack.

Castiel can almost feel his heart breaking and he subconsciously puts his hand there. Balthazar regards him with narrowed eyes.

“For whatever it is worth, Dean, Cassie has not been working for me in regards to you. Quite frankly he has done everything in his power to protect you. If you let this get in the way of what I believe Castiel wants the two of you to have, then you are quite possibly the world’s biggest idiot.”

He hands a folder to Castiel. “I frankly do not care which of you take care of this little problem. It is in Dean’s region however, so he is the lucky one.”

Dean scoffs again, causing Balthazar to roll his eyes.

“Take care, Darling.”

Castiel looks to Dean after the angel flew away. His eyes focus on the half-empty bottle.

“Dean, I…”

“Save it Cas.”

“I can explain.”

Dean’s eyes finally meet his, red-rimmed and full of pain.

“You know what, Cas? Fuck you.”

Dean shakes his head back and forth and laughs again.

“I fucking liked you, you know?”

Cas tries to settle the pit in his stomach.

“Past tense, Dean?”

The hunter takes a swig from the bottle and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck yeah, past tense. You fucking lied to me and spied probably. Fuck!”

“No more than you lied to me. I actually divulged more in regards to my life than you ever did.”

“I’m so sick of your fucking big ass words. Who the fuck says divulged in a normal conversation?”

Castiel knows that this is Dean’s defense mechanism. He knows it, but that does not quell the absolute heartbreak happening just behind his ribcage.

Cas nods as he heads to his room. With a haste that surprises him, he packs all of his belongings into his suitcases. He carefully places the copy of “Beowulf” his twin bought for him in its special place in his suitcase.

He sits on the bed for just a moment to collect his thoughts. He feels an emptiness in his chest that runs down to his stomach. He covers his mouth with his hand to hold in a sob. Just that morning he had woken up in Dean’s arms, a feeling that spread throughout his body, a comfort and warmth that oozed safety. He had met Dean’s family, done _things_ to each other in a bathroom, and now Cas was packing his bags over a misunderstanding. Cas takes in a deep breath and wheels his suitcases out the door of his bedroom.

He passes by Dean on the couch, who is curled up in a fitful sleep, the bottle of Jack sitting precariously on the edge of the coffee table.

Castiel silently walks over to it and places it in the middle of the table so Dean will not knock it off. He pulls the blanket off the back of the sofa and covers Dean with it. Dean shifts and mutters “Cas.” Castiel almost wakes him, almost tells him he’s leaving, but thinks better of it. Dean obviously wanted him to leave, after what he said.

With a heavy heart that seems to hurt more than when Hannah left him, he loads his luggage into the back of the Mark V, absent-mindedly notes the time (1:07 pm) and drives away.

*******

The Void is overcome with a particular type of release that can only indicate one thing. He fills his spacious lungs with the nothingness surrounding him and lets it out with a joy previously unknown to the Being. He moves his head back and forth, releasing the tension in his neck, and cracking the bones he formed from the void.

He smiles, revealing all too perfect white teeth and taps his pipe against them. He stands and stretches all of his limbs in turn, reveling in their limberness. He pulls his timepiece from his watch pocket.

1:07.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I would LOVE to hear from y'all!! Kudos are so very much appreciated as well!! Thank you!!


	9. Never, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up dazed and confused and mortified, Cas takes a drive and calls Mia, Claire and Sam stop by to see Dean, Claire is worried about her Uncle, and Dean and Cas are reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to all of the wonderful readers of this story!! Y'all are seriously the best!! Y'alls subscriptions, comments, bookmarks, and kudos warm my heart and inspire me to write!
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any other TV Shows, Books, Movies, Songs, Websites, Brands, and/or any Apps used in this tale. 
> 
> I felt so bad leaving y'all with the last chapter as it was such a rough one! This one is full of Cas, Dean, and Dean and Cas. Some parts of it are definitely fluffy, and I hope it does a fairly good job explaining both men's actions (especially Dean's). There is a part in here that is taken from 15x9, but it does not include spoilers, as it is used in a (slightly) different context. 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of a Panic Attack 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this chapter and I hope it makes up for the last one I put y'all through!!

Dean Winchester woke up with a horrendous headache. He turned over on the couch and pulled the blanket up under his chin. He threw it off of him seconds later, realizing he needed the bathroom like yesterday. Dean sees the mark Cas left on his neck in the mirror and feels ill, he knows something happened with Cas but he can’t remember exactly what.

He sits on the edge of his bed, trying to remember what exactly happened. Balthazar came, Cas knew him. What the fuck was that? Balthazar said Cas wasn’t a spy, but coincidences don’t just happen coincidentally, do they?

Then Balthazar left, Dean didn’t really remember the particulars of that. And he said…. Oh fuck what he said. Fuck! Dean buries his head in his hands. Cas probably hated him, and he needed to apologize, although he really didn’t even know how to begin.

‘Hey Cas, sorry I said ‘fuck you’ and didn’t believe you about not being a spy.’ But that was too weird, wasn’t it? I mean, that they both just happened to work for an angel, heaven, whatever? Cas did say he was some type of high-level hit man, and what had he said? Nothing. He told Cas he learned to fight to defend himself in bars. Fuck!

He could try to explain, right? About his anger, how he withdrew from everyone when he felt rejected. And God, the anger boiled over knowing Cas, the man he thought he may fucking _love_ , has been working with that fucking angel about _him_. Of course, in those few seconds it ran through his mind that Cas was only acting, didn’t actually want him, because, how could he? Dean was nothing, a pile of fucking three-day-old garbage that didn’t deserve the admiration of a professor at Stanford with two Doctorates. Cas being a spy for Heaven made way more sense than the man actually _wanting_ him.

Oh God, and he told Cas he didn’t even like him anymore. Dean holds his gut, trying to fill the hole that seemed to suddenly appear there. Fuck, _like_ was such an understatement that Dean knew how he said it so easily. He couldn’t ever tell Cas he didn’t love him anymore. He did fucking love him too, the bastard. He knew it the moment Cas kissed his fingers in The Roadhouse. He knew it all the more when Cas backed away from him in the bathroom, respecting Dean’s wishes to make their first everything special.

Dean stumbles from his room to find the man he _needs_ to beg forgiveness from. He knows he needs Cas, and that they can work through this, because whatever they have is strong, Dean knows they both feel the pull.

Dean leans against the doorframe when he sees Cas’s room is empty. His books are gone, his clothes are taken from the closet, and the bed is perfectly made. Dean purses his lips, nods, and scoffs. Of course he fucking left, everyone always leaves him. The anger rises to the surface again, and Dean knocks over the bookcase, causing the inexpensive furniture to bend and twist in an irreparable fashion.

“Fuck!”

*******

Castiel Novak sits in his Lincoln in a parking lot looking over the file folder Balthazar gave him. He looks over the pictures and notices the bite marks on the victim’s neck. _Vampire_. Cas sighs deeply as he looks at the addresses. He starts up the Mark V and drives towards rural Alabama.

Cas was hoping Dean would call him, but to use his friend’s expression, he was not holding his breath. He knew the man to be stubborn, a trait he himself possessed, and he resigned himself to never seeing Dean Winchester again.

The mere thought left a hole in his gut. Cas had to breathe deeply to overcome the feeling, the weight of which almost left him immobile. He knows he needs a Zoom meeting with Mia as soon as he gets to a hotel. He calls her and puts his phone on speaker, hoping to be able to work through the next few minutes without a full-blown panic attack.

_Castiel, are you well?_

“I uh… I’m having a bit of a moment, Mia.”

_“Are you safe?”_

“Yes, I’m safe.”

_“Can you breathe with me?”_

“Yes.”

_“In… hold…out…in…hold…out…in…hold…out…in…hold…out.”_

_“Better?”_

“Yes, thank you.”

_“Of course. Now, can you tell me the source of the problem, or did the anxiety just appear?”_

“As you know, I am on sabbatical.”

_“Ummhum.”_

“Well, I ended up rooming with this man I ended up falling for. Hard.”

_“Okay.”_

“Well, turns out he is one of Balthazar’s chosen.”

_“That is quite the coincidence, isn’t it?”_

“Very much so. He thought I was spying for Balthazar and said horrible things to me.”

_“I see. And you left?”_

Cas closes his eyes for a second before responding. “Yes.”

_“We talked about that being your go-to response, Castiel. Avoidance.”_

Cas pulls his bottom lip inside of his mouth. “I know, Mia, but the things he said.”

_“Why do you think he said them?”_

“He was hurt.”

_“As were you.”_

“Yes.”

_“So, are we to assume his go-to response is anger?”_

“I think so. Anger, violence, and a type of withdrawal.”

_“How so?”_

“I could feel him shut down. He went from this kind and caring person to an angry, rage-filled, mechanical man within seconds. He went and got a bottle of whiskey and drank two-thirds of it before I even had a chance to talk to him.”

_“You care very much for him, yes?”_

“I did.”

_“Do you really feel past tense is appropriate here, Castiel?”_

“I do not know. I fear we are both too stubborn to cave to the other.”

_“Yes, I am very well acquainted with that aspect of your personality. However, do you feel it is appropriate in this situation?”_

“Aren’t you supposed to shit talk him with me, you’re taking his side.”

_“Castiel, I am your therapist not your friend, and this is not a sleepover. I am not taking sides. This is the first time you have allowed yourself to open up to someone since Hannah, and that is worthy of exploration.”_

“I am sorry, what I said was inappropriate. Maybe being obstinate isn’t the right thing to do here, but, Mia, I am very hurt.”

_“Perhaps you can tell me his words so I can better understand what we are working with here.”_

“He accused me of being a spy, said he no longer liked me, said ‘fuck you’, to ‘save it’, and that he was sick of the big words I used.” Cas wipes his face from the tears that seemed to fall without his permission.

_“That is quite a bit, yes. And all of it hurtful. Let’s dissect it a bit, shall we?”_

“So we can try to see where he is coming from?”

_“Yes. He thought you were working with Balthazar to spy on him, correct?”_

“Yes.”

_“Hum. In your time with this man, what did you notice as his biggest flaw?”_

A type of light dawns on Castiel, and his soul feels a little less heavy. “His lack of self-worth.”

_“Okay, so, if you were to put yourself in his position, how would he perceive this course of events?”_

“He more than likely thought I only expressed interest in him due to what he perceived as my job. He must have assumed I was only leading him on and did not truly care about him in the way I do.”

_“You believe his self-depreciation prevented him from seeing the truth?”_

“He referred to himself as a grunt, Mia, a body.”

_“I can tell from your tone that greatly affected you.”_

“Yes. For lack of a better term, it broke my heart a bit.”

_“You care deeply for him, Castiel, that is apparent. Do you understand more now why he lashed out in such a manner?”_

“I do.”

_“How do you intend to proceed?”_

“I think that once I am done with this case, I will go back to him and explain myself and hope he believes me.”

_“I am proud of you, Castiel.”_

“Thank you, Mia.”

*******

“Dude.”

Sam Winchester practically kicks his way through the garbage in his brother’s house to find his way to one of the living room chairs. He puts the pizza box that is sitting on it onto the coffee table, which was covered with beer bottles and a few bottles of Jack.

Dean was curled up on the couch with his hot dog pajama pants and blanket pulled up to his chin.

“What the fuck happened, man? Where’s Cas?”

“Gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

“He fucking left, Sam, just like everyone always does.”

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Why did he leave, Dean?”

Dean shrugs.

“Dean.”

“What, Sam, huh? He just left, okay? Now drop it.”

Sam sighs with his entire body as he leans forward in the chair. “Dean, please tell me what happened.”

Dean rolls his eyes towards his brother. “I said some stuff I guess.”

“What stuff, Dean? Rufus and Bobby both called me worried about you, you haven’t been to work.”

“You think I don’t know I haven’t been to work, Sam?”

“What did you say to Doctor Novak, Dean?”

Dean sits up, wrapping the blanket around him. Sam notices the three-day-old hair growth on his jaw and notes he’s not too far away from a full beard.

“Balthazar dropped by and Cas knew him.”

Sam nods, seemingly not too surprised. Dean narrows his eyes at him.

“Well, I mean, it kinda makes sense, Dean. Doctor Novak is an expert on Mythological creatures. I’m sure Balthazar went to him on occasion for identifying monsters.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little too coincidental Sam?”

Sam shrugs, “No, not really, I mean, no more than him being my professor. Our lives have always been a little coincidental, Dean.”

“Well, I thought he was a spy.”

Sam’s heart sinks. “What did you say to him, Dean?”

Dean swallows. “I told him ‘fuck you’, and that I didn’t like him anymore. And I told him I was sick of his big words.” Dean averts his brother’s gaze.

Sam purses his lips and looks at the floor. “Did you apologize?”

Dean stares at his gigantor of a little brother. “I didn’t have the chance, Sam. He fucking left.”

“Dude, wouldn’t you?”

“I never leave, Sam. You know that.”

Sam nods sadly. “Dean, Doctor Novak isn’t Lee. I mean, you get that right? He’s in on the life and has been for years it seems like. And yeah, maybe this is the world’s biggest coincidence, but couldn’t it also be like the Universe pushing you two together?”

Dean rubs his hand down his face. “I know Cas isn’t Lee, Sam. Why the fuck would Cas like someone like me anyway? Lee I kinda understood, we were almost kinda the same person, but Cas? Fuck.”

Sam shakes his head and leans his head back onto the chair. “Dude, you have always been like this. Lee was so tired of your self-deprecating shit.”

“He talked to you about it?”

“Yeah, man. He loved you so fucking much, man.”

Dean rests his elbows on his knees and puts his face in his hands. “I loved him too, Sam.”

“Did you ever tell him?”

Dean raises his eyes to his brother, tears stinging them. “Fuck you, Sam.”

“You can say that to me all you want, Dean, I’m not leaving.”

Dean’s eyes turn from anger to sadness. “No, I didn’t tell him enough, that’s for damn sure. He left me, Sam.”

“He couldn’t handle the life, Dean.”

Dean reclines against the couch. “And Cas can?”

“Dude, you know he already is. But that shit aside, how do you feel about him?”

“I hate your feelings talks.”

“I don’t care.”

Dean sighs. “I guess I uh…”

Sam’s eyebrow raises.

“I really like him Sammy.”

Somehow the eyebrow goes even higher, causing Dean to chuckle slightly.

“Yeah, it’s a little bit more than that, okay?”

Sam smiles. “Well then, call him and apologize.”

“And bring him home?”

Sam nods.

*******

When Cas thought rural Alabama, he didn’t think this rural. He hadn’t had cell reception for days and he really hoped Claire hadn’t tried to contact him. The vampire had very quickly turned into vampires, and since Cas didn’t have backup, he was attempting to track and kill them one by one instead of raiding their nest. It was tiresome to say the least.

He was sitting in the back booth of one of the divest dive bars he had ever come across. The floor was dirt with straw on top and he was fairly certain the liquor served was moonshine. He could barely stomach it, as it burned all the way down. It did, however, provide a nice warmth in the pit of one’s stomach.

The target was leaning over a young girl at the jukebox. Cas absent-mindedly wondered how the machine was powered, as he saw no outlets along the walls. The target’s eyes moved back and forth predatorily, looking for eyes that were watching him. Cas had developed a skill over the years where he could watch a target without ever actually _watching_ them. It had served him well over the years.

He nods toward the back door, indicating the girl should follow him. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth coyly and follows him, their hands interlaced. Cas lays a twenty-dollar bill on the table and heads out the front door. He slinks around to the back, undetected by either vampire or girl.

“You’re real pretty, you know that?”

The girl giggles slightly as she twirls her hair on her finger. “Thanks.”

The vampire leans down toward her neck, fangs exposed.

Cas sneaks up behind him and stabs him through with the blade Balthazar gives him. He places his hand over the girl’s mouth before she can scream. He regards her with kind eyes, and she nods, indicating she will not scream.

“I am sorry to interrupt your date, but your intended was a vampire.”

“A what? Those aren’t real. I’m gonna call the police.”

Cas rolls his eyes as he bends down to the corpse. He rolls it over and pulls up the upper lip, revealing a row of sharp teeth. The girl inhales a sharp breath.

“He was gonna bite me?”

Cas stands and nods. “They had a nest here, and they were recruiting. You are young and pretty, just their type.”

“Thank you, I guess.”

Cas nods as he bends down once more to wipe the blade off on the man’s shirt.

“Umm… was he the last of them?”

Cas sighs. “Thank goodness, yes. There were too many of them, and they were decidedly annoying.”

The girl finds a laugh escaping her nose. “You’re kinda an odd one, aren’t you, Vampire hunter?” She smirks a bit, causing Cas to shake his head in amusement.

“I suppose I am. Take care of yourself.”

*******

Dean answers the door in his bathrobe, still in his hotdog pajama pants. Claire looks at him strangely.

“Umm, hey Dean. Do you know where Cas is?”

Dean shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “You don’t?”

Claire shakes her head, worry creasing her young brow. “I’ve been trying to text and call him for days and nothing.”

Dean opens the door all the way and lets her in. “No kid, I’m sorry. We had a fight and he left. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Claire steps in and nods. “Yeah, he does that when he thinks he’s not wanted. It’s annoying. But he’s never ignored _me_.”

“Not wanted?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda his M.O. But he always comes back.”

Dean releases a breath at that, one he didn’t remember holding. “Uh, I’m sorry I don’t know anymore than you do.”

“Fuck.” Claire mutters as she runs her hand through her hair.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m worried, Dean. He goes off on these…” She pauses and looks at him, wide-eyed.

“It’s okay kid, I know.”

“He told you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Okay, so he goes off on his own, and I never know if he’s okay or not…”

Dean pulls her into a hug.

“No offense, Dean, but you kinda smell like Doritos and old man.”

Dean laughs slightly as he releases her. “Yeah, it’s been a rough few days.”

Claire looks around the entry and living room. “Yeah, I can see that. Because Cas left?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, uh…” he chuckles. “Turns out I was pretty attached to your uncle, kid.”

He moves to sit on the couch and Claire follows him to a chair.

“What happened?”

“Balthazar popped in, Cas knew him, and I assumed the worst.”

“Wait, what? Balthazar?”

Dean scratches the back of his head. “Uh, yeah, I’m kind of a Chosen One or whatever.”

“Oh yeah, one of the Chosen, okay. So Balthazar is your guardian, right?”

Dean nods.

“Okay, so he flew in, and you what, thought Cas was spying on you?”

Dean nods once more, ashamed.

Claire scoffs. “Dude, I had to coerce him into even thinking about rooming with you. I thought it’d be good for him. He’s been through a lot of shit, Dean.”

Dean meets her eyes, apology written across his own. “I feel terrible about it, Claire. For what it’s worth, I’m so sorry kid.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Dean. Fuck!” Claire gets up and begins pacing, kicking boxes out of the way.

“Did he tell you about Hannah?”

Dean shakes his head.

“He was gonna ask her to marry him. Like had the whole thing planned, right? I was part of it, and so was Hannah’s cat, it was disgustingly adorable. I almost puked. The day of the night he was gonna do it, she told him she was going back to her first husband. Some bore named Joe.”

Dean winces.

“Fucking broke him, Dean. I had to make sure he ate for God’s sake.”

Claire sits back down. “He kept expecting her to come back, because he always did, and he just thought people were as loyal as he was. She never did, and then we got her fucking wedding invitation in the mail. I convinced him to see a therapist after that, helped him a lot. I thought you’d be good for him, Dean.”

“I’d like to think I am, Claire. I made a mistake, but I can fix it.”

“If he’s alive.”

“Claire.”

She shoots familiar blue eyes to him. “Why was Balthazar here?”

Dean sighs and places his head on the back of the couch. “To give me a case.”

“Did he give it to Cas?”

Dean nods.

“Okay, so he’s probably working it. Do you remember where it was?”

Dean shakes his head.

“Well then, can you call your angel?” Claire’s eyes go comically wide as her expression becomes agitated.

“Balthazar, we need information regarding your Darling Cassie.” Dean looks to her and shrugs.

*******

The only accommodations available to him at the time were a roadside motel, but the place did have a kitchenette. Cas was not going to go back to Dean empty handed. Even though he knew the other man was completely in the wrong, it was the professor’s nature to provide a type of offering whenever a fight had been had.

He goes to the local supermarket, where he still did not have cell reception somehow and bought all the ingredients for a chocolate meringue pie. He had to go to the local library, which somehow also did not have cell reception, and take a picture of a recipe out of a cookbook. He had to buy all the equipment as well as the ingredients since the kitchenette was not well stocked by any stretch of the imagination. Cas only found one spoon of questionable origin.

Castiel decided to go with a frozen crust this time considering he could not find a pastry blender anywhere in the store. The pie was not an easy feat, and after he was done baking, he packed up his belongings, checked out of the motel, and pointed the Mark V back home.

*******

“What is it Dean, I was enjoying a show where these two very flexible women were…”

Dean cleared his throat and inclined his head toward Claire.

“Claire, love, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there. How are you sweetheart?”

Claire smiles at the angel, a genuine gesture Dean is somewhat surprised by.

“I’m all right, but I don’t know where Cas is.”

Balthazar nods. “Yes, he went on a Vampire case in some obscure part of Alabama, I seriously doubt they have cell towers. However, if your uncle were in serious trouble, I would be able to feel it.”

Claire nods, relieved, obviously taking the angel at face value. Dean wasn’t so easily placated.

“How do you know? He’s not one of your chosen or whatever.”

“No, this is true. However, he is branded as ‘mine’, just as you are.”

“Yeah, I still think that’s really fucking creepy by the way.”

Balthazar shrugs. “It does not touch your soul, Dean. Only your ribs, which are significant because it was how Eve was born of Adam.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. So Cas is safe, then?”

“Undoubtedly. Did you solve your little squabble?”

Dean looks to the floor.

“Ah, I see you didn’t. Pity.”

The angel regards the young woman. “I promise to contact you if Cassie is ever in trouble love, after I assist him of course.”

Claire smiles and nods, causing Dean to roll his eyes.

After he flies away, Claire stands up to leave.

“You gonna be okay, kid?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” Dean tries to smile, and it turns into a sad thing.

Claire looks around. “Look, Dean, like I said, Cas always comes back. And uh, not to judge or anything, but I don’t think a hog would stay in here.”

Dean huffs out a type of laugh. “How long you say you been living in the South?”

She smiles. “Seriously, clean up your mess.”

Dean nods solemnly. “Thanks kiddo.”

“Bye Dean.”

“Bye Claire.”

*******

When Cas gets back on an actual interstate, he notices several texts and calls from Claire and a voicemail from Dean. He calls Claire back immediately.

_“Hey Uncle Cas.”_

“Claire, are you safe?”

_“I’m fine, I was worried about you. Balthazar told me you were okay. Did you know he can tell if we were in danger from our brands?”_

Cas smiles slightly, a gesture that does not reach his eyes. “Yes, it is a type of failsafe.”

_“Uh, okay. Kinda creepy.”_

“A little.”

_“Uh. I went by your place to see if Dean knew where you were.”_

Cas can feel his heartrate increase. “You did?”

_“Yeah, uh, Dean’s not doing too well, Cas.”_

“What do you mean, Claire?”

_“His place is trashed. Delivery food boxes and bottles everywhere. And he’s wearing that same damn outfit we met him in.”_

Cas’s heart sinks even further, and he subconsciously speeds up. “I am afraid we both acted a bit like children.”

_“I kinda let him have it.”_

“Claire!”

_“You can’t excuse everyone’s behavior just because you love them, Cas. No matter what, people have to be held accountable for their actions.”_

Cas smiles, a fatherly gesture. “You are so grown up, Claire. I am so proud of you.”

_“You are such a sentimental dork and I love you.”_

“I love you too sweetheart. I should be back in Atlanta in a few hours. Would you like to meet?”

Cas can feel the hesitation in his niece’s response.

_“Maybe tomorrow? But, maybe go see Dean first, yeah?”_

“Are you sure?”

_“Positive. He needs you more right now than I do. Be safe Cas.”_

“Good-bye Claire.”

He next listens to the voicemail from Dean.

_Cas, I hope you can hear me, that wherever you are it’s not too late. I should have stopped you. You’re my… fuck I don’t know what we are, but we are something good Cas, or we were, man, and I don’t know, I think we could be so much more… but I feel like I just let you go, that I made you go... cause that was easier than admitting that I was wrong. I, I don’t know why I get so angry. I just know that I know that it’s just always been there… and when things go bad it, it just comes out and I, I can’t stop it...no matter how, how bad I want to I just can’t stop it… and I, I for… forgive you, of course I forgive you, I should’ve known that you…fuck, I’m just… I’m sorry it took me so long… I’m sorry it took me til now to say it, all these days late… Cas, I’m so sorry. … man I hope you get this message, I hope you can hear this. Ok._

Castiel knows how difficult that was for Dean to get through, and he decides to make another stop before he heads home.

*******

The first order of business was to take a shower. Dean accomplished that task rather quickly and then went to see the mess he made in Cas’s room. He had been sleeping on Cas’s bed because it smelled like the other man, and the scent allowed him to wake up with the idea that Cas was next to him. Dean stripped the bed and put the linens in the wash. He then turns his attention to the bookshelf he decimated.

He picks up the remnants and takes them to the trash can. He goes into the shed to inspect his present to Cas. It is finished, and absolutely beautiful. Dean smiles, proud of the work. He loads the shelf onto a hand truck and carefully wheels it inside. He positions it where the Ikea bookshelf was and rummages in the attic for the Christmas decorations. He gets out the bow Jess insists they put on top of the tree each year and takes it back to Cas’s room. He wraps the bow around the bookshelf and chuckles.

The next task is the living room, which is mainly just filled with trash. He makes quick work of that and then gets to the kitchen. The kitchen proves to be a more difficult job, and Dean learns he is going to require another shower. He surveys his work, deems it acceptable and remakes Cas’s bed, that no longer smells like _Cas_ but rather Gain detergent.

His heart stills when he hears a type of knock on the door. He tries to shake out his nerves as he goes to open it.

Castiel stands at the threshold, pie in one hand, and orchids in the other. Dean’s breath seemingly leaves his body. He quickly grabs Cas’s face in-between his hands and kisses him forcefully. Cas doesn’t respond at first, causing Dean to feel the rejection that lies just below his surface, but the Professor quickly catches on, kissing Dean fully in return. Dean’s over thinking mind worries when he doesn’t feel Cas’s arms around him, but he realizes Cas is holding a fucking pie and orchids. Which is just the most romantic, sappy shit, and Dean forgets himself again and keeps his lips on Cas’s, forgetting to breathe. When he finally breaks away, he presses their foreheads together.

“Hiya Cas.”

“Hello Dean.”

*******

After the pie was safely on the counter and the orchids in the middle of the dining room table, Dean pulls Cas to him again. He kisses him tenderly, this time the other man encircling his neck with his arms.

“Cas, I – I… there’s so much I need to say, man.”

“There’s no need Dean, I got your message.”

Dean kisses him again, and revels in the feeling of Cas’s hands in his hair.

“God, I can’t believe I waited so long to do this.”

Cas chuckles slightly.

“I appreciate your letting me off the hook, but I uh… I need to explain myself. I… this is so fucking important to me, Cas. You – I just, can we?”

Cas looks into the eyes he considered home.

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean leads them to the couch and breathes a sigh of relief and contentment as Cas presses against him and snuggles into his body perfectly.

“Uh… what I said…”

“Dean…”

“No, Cas… I need to get this out.”

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean pulls Cas closer to his chest, the two laying lengthwise on the sofa. Dean finds he can talk about feelings better if eye contact is not involved, although he finds a sort of peace in Cas’s eyes. Not that the man practically being in his lap is much better, honestly.

“Okay, so uh… first off, what I said about your vocabulary.”

“Ummhum?”

“I did that because I was kinda, threatened by it I guess?”

Cas nods, not wanting to interrupt.

“I only just graduated high school, you know? And uh… God, Sammy is a freakin’ lawyer, and you’re smart as all fuck, and I guess it was just one of those moments where I felt intimidated by your intelligence because uh… you… or I thought you betrayed me, and uh… I just kinda lashed out.”

“Yes.”

Dean kisses the top of Cas’s head before continuing, relishing the feel of the other man in his arms. He smiles at the realization Cas must have used some type of cheap motel shampoo.

“Okay, uh… the ‘fuck you’ was just me being a fucking dick.”

“Okay.”

“And the liking you thing being past tense was, uh…”

Cas puts his hand on Dean’s knee, giving an encouraging squeeze.

“Okay, yeah, uh, of course I like you man, and I think it goes beyond that.” Dean closes his eyes and buries his face in Cas’s hair, the man’s ebony tresses tickling his lips when he speaks. “I think I was only able to say it because ‘like’ is so far from the right term it was easy to spit out.”

“Do you want to try and explore what the right term would be, Dean?”

Dean feels tears escape his eyes and fall into black hair. “Are you gonna make me say it, Cas?”

“Do you not want to?”

“I’m not good with saying it. Fuck, I say it and everything always goes to shit.”

“I understand, Dean.”

Dean moves his face to kiss the side of Cas’s head.

“I was extraordinarily hurt by your words that afternoon. I have come to care for you completely. Your words were like a chisel removing pieces of my soul violently.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Cas.”

“I know you are Dean, and I accept your apology.” Cas removes himself from Dean’s grasp and turns around to face him.

“I understand your anger, and your pain. But if I may, I would like to explain my relationship with Balthazar. I would very much like to tell you everything.”

“Of course, man.”

Cas smiles slightly as he once more snuggles into Dean’s chest. The other man readily replacing his arms.

“I was sitting in my office one evening, reading student’s papers. I was teaching Introduction classes at the time, and some of the papers lacked, well, anything. So, reading them and providing critical yet constructive feedback occasionally proved difficult.”

Dean chuckled somewhat. “I bet.”

“Yes, so, I was engrossed in my work when a man, or so I thought at the time, appeared in the chair in front of my desk. I was very fidgety then and spilled my coffee all over those poor students’ papers.”

“No you didn’t.” Dean laughs.

“Oh, I most certainly did. And Balthazar rolled his eyes, waved his hand, and the mess was gone. Plus my coffee was once more at the perfect temperature.”

“He is such a Drama King.”

“Is he not? He was surprised how readily I accepted his angelic nature, but I had made significant study of angels, and their existence did not surprise me. He took a drink of whatever he keeps in his glass, and passed me a file folder with descriptions of a horrific attack and asked me if I knew the monster that could do such things, and how to kill it, or them. Our relationship grew from there, and he dropped in on me more and more. We developed a sort of friendship.”

“I noticed.”

Cas laughs through his nose. “Yes, we are fond of one another. I learned fairly early on it would be beneficial if I were more than a resource. So, I began training. Balthazar taught me some, I enrolled in classes for the other. The coaches at Stanford became invaluable resources.”

“So, you really are a kind of hitman.”

“I suppose, yes.”

“Heaven’s hitman. Has a ring to it.”

“You fall under the same category, do you not?”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, I guess I do, Cas. But it was kinda shoved on me, you know? And I am getting tired of it. Fuck, I’ve been doing it for twenty-two years now. I just kinda want this.” He pulls Cas more into his chest.

“I understand that sentiment, Dean. But you are a hero, you save the world.”

Dean scoffs and Cas turns around once more. “Why do you do that? I do not like it.”

“What?” Dean’s confusion at Cas’s statement is easily readable on his handsome face.

“When you do not regard yourself the same way I do. Do you know why I came back?”

“No, Cas, I can’t really imagine why, man.”

Cas runs his hand up and down Dean’s jaw. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes immediately turn soft and he kisses Cas as tenderly as he possibly can. When he breaks away, he takes his hand to lead Cas back to Cas’s room.

Castiel releases his hand to inspect the bookshelf. He runs his hands admiringly over the wood. “Dean, this is…”

Dean walks over to him and encircles his waist from behind. “Yeah, thought it was more appropriate for _Beowulf_ than that Ikea thing.”

“You made this?”

“Yeah, Benny had some leftover wood, and I uh…”

Cas turns around suddenly and kisses Dean just as forcefully as Dean did when he opened the door. His hands find Dean’s hips and his hands wander underneath his t-shirt and run smoothly up and down several times before his hands travel further south, and slip underneath Dean’s boxers.

“Cas, uh…”

Castiel pulls back from Dean’s lips at the man’s uttered words, taking his lower lip gently in his teeth before releasing it, licking his own after.

“Yes, Dean?”

Fuck it. Cas’s eyes were blown all to hell, his hair was messed up from Dean burying his face in it earlier, and he was wearing that stupid blue tie with his white dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows. This was special, right?

“Nothing, man, keep doing whatever.”

Cas’s eyes take on a sinful gleam as he undoes the buckle on Dean’s belt. He slides it out of the loops and tosses it on the floor. He watches Dean’s Adam’s apple as the man swallows. He pushes up the hem of Dean’s t-shirt and pulls it over Dean’s head, Dean helping him by raising his arms. Cas begins kissing Dean’s lips and then moves to his chin, down his neck, his chest, torso, and stops just below his belly button. He looks up at Dean, a smirk playing on the right side of his lips and Dean can’t remember being this turned on ever.

Cas unbuttons Dean’s jeans, and the other man steps out of them. He reaches up to slide his fingers gently in the waistband of Dean’s boxers, causing wonderful shivers to run down the man’s body. Dean steps out of them as well and Cas pushes them aside. Cas runs his hands up and down Dean’s calves and stands to kiss Dean’s lips once more and push him to sit on the edge of the bed.

Before Cas can lower himself back down to the floor, Dean catches his wrist. “Too many clothes on, snot fair.”

Cas smirks and bends to whisper in his ear. “Second date.”

Dean looks at him playfully before grabbing his tie and pulling him on top of him, both of them laying back. Dean untucks Cas’s shirt and runs his hands along Cas’s flanks. He reaches into Cas’s pants, causing a delightful moan to escape his pale pink lips.

Cas looks down at him and kisses him, hoping to distract Dean from his current course of action. He is able to elicit a type of whimper from the other man, and he carries on with his intended task. He moves his lips down Dean’s body. Dean’s hand grips his hair when he reaches his projected place and Cas smiles to himself.

*******

Dean rolls onto Cas, eyes half closed in a type of peacefulness. “You still have too many clothes on.”

Cas chuckles. “Second date, my love.”

Dean freezes at the endearment, eyes wide open. He pulls Cas’s face to his. The kiss is wet and sloppy and so filled with need that Cas gets lost in it. Dean soon has Cas’s body under his own.

“This counts as a second date, right Babe?”

Cas searches Dean’s face and nods.

Dean straddles Cas as he slowly removes the dark blue tie and throws it somewhere in the room. He starts unbuttoning the shirt and moves it as far to the sides as he can. He has every intention for Cas to keep it on. He captures Cas’s lips in his own, and then begins to move down Cas’s body. He appreciates every beautiful little noise Cas makes.

He unbuckles the belt and unbuttons Cas’s dress pants. Cas arches up so Dean can better remove them. Dean takes them off cleanly, having to get off the bed, which is annoying to him, as he was so enjoying his position. He once more straddles Cas and moves to the man’s boxers. Cas gasps as Dean takes the waistband in his teeth. Cas arches, and Dean easily slides them off, leaving them around Cas’s knees.

“Show off.” He mutters.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet, Babe.”

*******

Cas throws his boxers and ridiculous black dress socks onto the floor.

Dean starts to chuckle. “You wore those the whole time.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You didn’t give me much time to prepare.”

Dean shrugs, a twinkle apparent in his eye. “Couldn’t wait, Cas.”

Cas turns to his side and runs his forefinger over Dean’s anti-possession tattoo. He has a matching one on his hip.

“You are beautiful, Dean Winchester.”

Dean rolls over on his back and stares up at the ceiling. “That was one of the first things I said about you.”

“I am honored.”

“To Sam and Jess when they called me after I had just met you. That’s when Jess told me to ‘get you’.”

“Well, I suppose you did.”

Dean turns back over. “Did I?”

Cas’s heart aches at the looks of disbelief apparent in Dean’s emerald green eyes.

“What more do you need than a proclamation of my love for you?”

Dean’s eyes hold a twinge of sadness, and Cas rests his hand on Dean’s side.

“Don’t leave me.”

It was vulnerable and raw and so fucking painful.

“Never, my love.”

*******

The Void feels the familiar tug at the fabric of his being and grimaces. The previous tears had been painful and annoying, but nothing existence threatening. He waved away his newly formed anxiety with a long forefinger. His past few days had been filled with absinthe, tobacco, and chess with a creature he formed from the nothingness surrounding him.

He was not familiar with humanity or human customs, but he imagined the relief he felt was catastrophic enough to cause a rift that would last more than a few days. But the tug proved him wrong. And Sir hated being wrong.

The fissure created at the reunion is earth shattering. All of the glass in a small town in Rhode Island mysteriously explodes. A small earthquake occurs in North Carolina, stunning residents. All of the catfish in a small Tennessee pond float belly up. A scream so blood curdling, so primordial emerges from the Void as a rip begins to form in his torso, that the gates of Heaven themselves shake, and the hellhounds whine.

Sir’s eyes hold nothing, and the Being disappears from the nothing around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading!! I would LOVE to hear from y'all!! Kudos are always appreciated! They warm my heart and make me smile. :-)


	10. Reparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean spend the morning together: cooking, eating, and rearranging. The creatures move about in their roles. Claire meets a lovely young woman in the park. The Void goes about his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so, so much for the subscriptions, kudos, and bookmarks!! They mean so much to me as the author of this tale, and I find them so inspiring!
> 
> I apologize for the length of time it took to update. This chapter contains several different elements, and it took me awhile to put them all together. 
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any other TV Show, Movie, Book, Webpage, Website, and/or app mentioned in this story. 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Homophobic slurs (by John Winchester)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I would LOVE to hear from y'all!!

Cas feels Dean’s arms unwind from around him and notices as a weight is lifted from the bed. He takes his phone from the nightstand and looks at the time: 2:38am. He buries himself further into the bed and pulls the comforter to his chin. He feels the bed dip again and wonders why Dean didn’t resume his position of ‘big spoon’.

Cas turns over and smiles. Dean is sitting, back against the headboard, eating the pie Cas made. Cas watches as best he can in the mostly dark room, the only sliver of light being from the small crack in the door, allowing the hall light to shine in. He watches as Dean closes his eyes in pleasure and bites the corner of his lip as small moans escape the other man’s mouth.

Dean seems to feel Cas’s stare and he looks over, mouth full, and grins sheepishly.

“So fucking good, Cas.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it, considering you didn’t bring me any.”

Dean’s face turns from worry to amusement. “First breakfast.”

Cas chuckles as Dean puts more pie into his exquisite mouth.

“I believe I am slightly jealous of the pie, Dean.”

Dean has to focus intently as he swallows. “Dude.”

“Hum?”

Dean puts the empty plate on the nightstand and lays down, facing Cas. He kisses him tenderly, sweetly, and Cas can taste the remains of chocolate on his lower lip.

“What’s for second breakfast?”

He can feel Dean’s smirk against his lips. “That’s up to you.”

“Turn over.”

Dean almost falters, almost asks ‘why?’, but instead, he simply obeys. Cas snuggles up against him and intertwines their legs. He places his arm around him and whispers into his ear: “Good night, Dean.”

The hold, the comfort is new to Dean. In every relationship he has been the one to hold, to protect, to envelop. Having Cas envelop him was different, but desirable, perfect even. He hoped he allowed this type of safety to be felt by others, by Lisa, by Lee. He takes the hand that is resting on his stomach and holds it to his heart. “Good night, Cas.”

*******

The creature impersonating Lee Webb drops his bag by the bed nearest the motel door. He watches with vitriol in his blue eyes as John Winchester deposits his duffel by the other bed. Not only did the man insist on travelling with him, he insisted on sharing rooms as well, ostensibly to avoid paying for his own.

The creature heads to the bathroom, hoping the warm water he learned he enjoys feeling on his makeshift skin will ease the tension behind his fabricated eyes.

John sits on his bed and pulls out his journal. He opens to the first page, which contains a detailed entry on the ghosts the trio fought. He absent-mindedly thinks to the first time he met Lee, a hand threading through his graying beard.

_A man with long hair and clad only in boxers stands in front of him, baseball bat in hand._

_John narrows his eyes at the figure, unthreatened. “Who the fuck are you?”_

_“You broke into my apartment, so who the fuck are you?”_

_“Lee?”_

_John sees the figure of his eldest son over the shoulder of the man with the bat._

_“Dean, tell whoever the fuck this is to put down the damn bat.”_

_Lee’s eyes move to Dean’s, his stance never changing._

_“That’s my Dad, Lee.”_

_Lee slowly lowers the bat, resuming eye contact with John._

_“Huh.”_

_Lee moves to the couch, making sure he is still within hearing distance of his boyfriend and his father._

_“That who you shack up with now, Dean? Pansies?”_

_Lee’s back straightens at the slur, and he inhales deeply. His eyes follow the movements of the older man, contempt filling every pore._

_“Dad, are you okay? What’s up?”_

_Lee can feel John’s eyes on him, and he doesn’t back down, animosity growing between them, filling the air._

_As Dean has done on countless occasions before, between John and Sammy, and between John and his Mom, he tries to diffuse the situation._

_“Dad?”_

_John’s hazel eyes snap to his son’s, Dean can feel the heat off of him, and he backs up minutely._

_“I thought I got that out of you, boy.”_

_Lee can feel Dean’s hesitation, he can almost smell his fear._

_“Lee’s my friend, Dad. He needed a place to crash for the night.”_

_“Don’t fucking lie to me boy. Do you let him fuck you too?”_

_Lee stands and moves between them, knowing Dean can fight every battle except the one with his father._

_“What’ll get you to go out that door?”_

_John’s eyebrow raises as he makes a poor excuse of a snarl, along with a shrug. “Whatever you got.”_

_Lee walks towards the bedroom and comes back with five hundred dollars in cash. He shoves it into John’s chest._

_“Leave.”_

_John grins, nods at Dean, and slams the front door behind him._

John scoffs, the memory seeming fresh in his mind. The years caused him to forget just how strong Lee was. In a way, John admired the panty waste more than he admired his own son. Lee had balls at least, seemingly anyway.

*******

Dean wakes up to Cas surrounding him, filling his senses. The man’s legs are entwined with his own, one of his arms is underneath Dean’s head, and the other encircles his waist. He moves slightly and feels _Cas_. Dean smiles and reaches behind him, grabbing one cheek of Cas’s ass. He hears the other man groan slightly and figures this was about the second, well maybe third, best way to wake up.

Cas groans and Dean whispers, “Mornin’ cowboy.”

Without missing a beat, Cas whispers into Dean’s ear, “I’m your Huckleberry.”

And that fucking did it.

Dean moves quickly, sliding Cas underneath him. “Did you just quote my favorite movie to me, Castiel Novak?”

Cas offers him a sleepy smirk. Dean’s crashes onto his lips instantly. Cas easily switches their positions.

Just as he was usually the one to physically encircle his partner, Dean was also the one to typically be on top, regardless of whatever situation was currently playing out. This wasn’t because of a preference on Dean’s part, it was from years of training to survive. Being underneath someone typically meant it would be more difficult to flee, to fight. And yeah, fighting someone nude had major drawbacks, but drawing a gun from underneath a pillow, or a blade from a nightstand drawer was a lot easier when positions didn’t have to be switched.

But Cas was different, he could be the one to protect, to fight, and he was fucking good at it. He could grab the gun, the blade, fight hand to hand. So, Dean allowed himself to be encompassed by Cas, and enjoyed the feeling of being the one protected, for once.

*******

At the Royal Sonesta Hotel in New Orleans, a self-important high-ranking demon sips the Jazz Playhouse’s selection of Johnny Walker Blue. His eyes look around languidly, feigning disinterest as a singer descends from the stage amid a hearty applause following her rendition of ["Oh Death"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScP5Nv-EhZI). He follows her fluid movements as she approaches him. A smile begins to form on the right side of his mouth as she takes her seat across from him.

“You lost honey?” She purrs, a sound that delights the demon’s stolen ears.

He inclines his head toward the drink in front of her. “I took the liberty of ordering your favorite.”

She regards it with about as much interest as a cat regards a bone. “I assume you need something, Crowley.”

“Are we to skip the foreplay, then?”

Her beautiful eyes scan him, and he feels a little hotter under the collar.

“Foreplay was never really our thing, Baby.”

Crowley smiles around the rim of his glass. “Straight to the heart of the matter, then.”

She nods and makes an agreeable noise. Crowley obtains obscene pleasure from her picking up her drink. She takes a sip and he watches her lips greedily. Her eyes widen as she regards the demon’s want, a look of bemusement overtaking her beautiful features. She shakes her head slightly as she sets her drink back down.

“Details, Crowley. I have another engagement.” Her eyes languorously move to an elderly man, listening intently to the band.

“Ah, so this is not all pleasure then?”

“It never is with you.”

“My pets whined.”

Billie’s eyes ever so slightly narrow, as she takes another sip of her drink. “Did you give them a bone?”

Crowley is unable to hide his amusement. “Come now darling, you and I are both aware there are not many things that can make a Hellhound whimper.”

“Were you singing?” A smirk plays on the right side of her mouth.

The demon finishes his drink and sets his glass down gently. His eyes look toward the ceiling and move around, as if he is searching for something. He draws his bottom lip into his mouth and his lip is held there for a moment by the wetness of his tongue meeting the already dry texture of his lip.

“No, but if you were they would’ve been lulled to sleep.”

“Good answer.”

“Hum.”

Billie’s eyes move to his once more. The elderly man clutches at his chest, the people at his table surrounding him. “Call nine one one!” Someone shouts. Another begins CPR. Crowley and Billie continue to stare at one another, unaffected by the scene playing out in front of them.

“I can ask around, but you know the deal.”

“Indeed. No information comes without a price.”

Billie nods as the paramedics place AED pads on the man’s chest. They place him upon a stretcher and leave the hotel.

“That’s my cue.”

*******

Dean lays on top of Cas, kissing his jaw.

Cas rubs his hand up and down Dean’s upper arm, eventually moving his hand to the nape of Dean’s neck. He moves his thumb up and down, feeling the fine hairs there.

He mumbles, distracted by Dean’s lips. “We need to shower, Dean.”

Dean notices the mess between their bodies. “Yeah, probably. When you say ‘we’?”

Cas offers him a mischievous grin. “I mean we.”

Dean swallows and avoid Cas’s gaze. “Uh, I don’t know if…”

Cas laughs, causing Dean to look questioningly into his eyes. “To shower, Dean.” He slaps the other man’s ass gently. “Get up, please.”

Dean smiles and acquiesces.

Castiel stops and stares at the clawfoot tub in the master bathroom.

Dean chuckles as he turns on the water to the shower. “Yeah, it was mom’s present to herself once she moved out here, kinda on her own. She was real proud, you know?”

“It is beautiful.”

Dean pulls Cas into the shower with him. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make use of it then, huh?”

Cas’s eyes go wide as Dean takes a bar of soap from the shelf and begins to lather up.

“I can use your tub?”

Dean rinses off and hands the bar of soap to Cas. “Dude, yeah.”

He gets the shampoo and starts to work on his hair, Cas following suit.

Dean handed Cas a towel from the towel rack. He marveled at how good the man looked wrapped in a towel, or not wrapped in one.

Cas looks around the bathroom and follows Dean into Dean’s room. As Dean pulls clothes out and on, he frowns at Cas’s discomfort.

“You okay?”

“This is embarrassing.”

Dean shrugs and he runs the towel through his hair once more.

Cas’s eyes meet the floor. “I have no clothes; they are in my suitcase in my car.”

“Don’t want to give the neighbors a show? It’d be the best thing they’d ever seen.”

Cas smiles and shakes his head in a playful manner. “I’d rather not.”

“Where are your keys? I’ll get ‘em. Should’ve got ‘em last night, Cas, sorry man.”

“They are in my pants pocket, wherever the pants ended up landing.”

Dean huffed out a laugh, kissed Cas on the cheek and went to retrieve the other man’s keys and subsequently his bags. He brings them back to his room and Cas’s brow furrows.

*******

A young blue-eyed woman sits on the park bench holding out treats to the small dog in front of her.

“Come on girl, lay down, I know you can do it.”

“Cute dog.”

Claire looks up to immediately be entranced by dark brown eyes.

“Uh, thanks.”

“What’s her name?”

“Rhea.”

The beautiful young lady with a kind yet weary face regards her with amusement.

“I like that.”

“Thanks. Uh, you live around here?”

Claire tried not to sound as awkward as she felt asking that. She scooted over, hoping the girl would sit beside her. She tried to hide her smile when she did.

“Yeah, I have an apartment a few minutes away. You?”

“I’m uh, staying in one of those weekly motel things right now. I was trying to get my Uncle settled in here.”

The young woman bites the inside of her cheek and bends to pet Rhea. “He uh, needs help?”

Claire laughs slightly as she watches the woman pet her dog. “He’s one of those kind of guys who doesn’t make friends too easily. Super nice, but super awkward.”

The young woman nods with a type of understanding. “Is he, uh, settled now?”

Claire rolls her eyes and looks at a cloud that resembles one of the mushrooms from the old-school Mario games. “He better be.”

She feels the questioning glance of the other woman more than seeing it.

“He’s a dumbass sometimes. He’s totally in love with this guy, but they got into a fight and Cas left. I think they’re good now though. He got back yesterday afternoon sometime and I only now heard from him.”

Kaia smirks slightly as she pulls down the sleeves of her light jacket to more fully cover her wrists. “Yeah, sounds like it went well.”

“He’s meeting me here in a bit.” Claire had no idea why she was offering so much information to this random young woman, but here she was, sitting in a park, talking about her Uncle Cas to this girl she felt this insane connection to.

“You two close?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s basically my dad.” _What the fuck?_ Claire looked into kind eyes and knew this was okay. The blonde learned early in life to hold things in, people used what you told them against you, but this girl seemed safe.

“I uh, gotta go to work, but uh, maybe you’d like to hang out?”

Claire looks to the girl hopefully but trying to hide the excitement. She hands the girl her phone after she unlocks it. “Yeah, sure, you wanna add your contact?”

The girl hands Claire her phone back and hands her hers right after. “You too?”

After the young woman walks away Claire looks down at the new contact on her phone.

Kaia.

*******

Dean clears his throat, rubs the back of his neck and looks to Cas, slight apprehension apparent in his eyes.

“Okay, yeah, uh, I was thinking we could maybe make your room into an office, and you could uh, maybe…”

Cas stops his rambling by a gentle kiss.

“Are you asking me to move in with you, Dean Winchester?”

Dean laughs. “Yeah man, I guess I am.”

Cas, still wrapped in a towel, puts his arms around Dean’s neck. He scrunches his face up in mock thought as he pensively bites the corner of his lip.

“I feel this is very sudden. I usually make three pies for a man before he asks me to move in with him.”

Dean’s face holds pure amusement, and Cas delights in the man’s crow’s feet and smile lines. His blue eyes search Dean’s face earnestly, trying to commit to memory that look.

“Well then, I guess you better get to cooking.”

Cas grabs the back of Dean’s neck and kisses him once more before breaking away and opening his suitcases for clothes. Dean nods to himself, pleased, and starts rearranging drawers and the closet for Cas to place his clothes in.

After Cas is dressed, they unpack Cas’s luggage, ensuring his books are placed carefully on the mahogany bookshelf. “Beowulf” takes up the entirety of the first shelf, the front cover facing out. Cas’s eyes fill while looking at it, and he can feel Dean’s arms encircle his waist.

“Jimmy would have admired your craftsmanship, Dean.”

Dean rests his head on Cas’s shoulder.

“Cas, man, that is probably the nicest damn compliment anyone has ever given me.”

Cas leans into the comfort Dean’s body provides. “It is true. My brother always appreciated beautiful work.”

Dean holds Cas tighter, relishing the perfect fit of their bodies. If he were a little bit more sappy (which he secretly was), he would say they were made for each other. He clears the thought with clearing his throat.

“So, I’m thinking we upgrade your desk too huh? And maybe whatever kind of furniture you want in here.”

Cas breathed in deeply, pushing to the back of his mind that he would eventually have to go back to Stanford.

“What about the bed?”

“Oh, yeah, well, there’s another couple bedrooms upstairs with a family room in between, it’s kinda a weird house. Mom thought the upstairs would be perfect for me and Sammy, even though we full grown ass men, well almost. We can put it in one of those. Kinda might be nice, having a guest area.”

“Maybe a couch?”

“Perfect, Cas.”

*******

The being who was currently being referred to as ‘Hannah’ took an immediate interest in her new neighbor. The young lady was lovely and emitted a certain type of effervesce mixed with nonchalance that immediately drew the creature in. She imagined the girl would never blubber, a thought which appealed greatly to the creature. She did not find the human abominable, which, coming from the creature, was quite the accolade.

The being took note of the girl leaving her apartment and decided to use the opportunity to investigate the young woman further. She slinks to Kaia’s door and lets herself in, as if the action of opening a locked door took no effort at all. Which, to be fair, it did not.

The creature walks throughout the apartment, noting there appears to be nothing of interest. She wanders into the bedroom, and finds a book titled “Dreamways of the Iroquios: Honoring the Secret.” The book recalls a memory from Hannah’s mind.

_Castiel is reading a book on Shamanic practices in various Native American tribes. He is thoroughly absorbed, and Hannah smiles at his preoccupation._

_“Engrossing?”_

_“Scintillating.” He offers as the book remains in place._

_Hannah often partook in a game of her own design where she would see how much effort it would take to distract Castiel. This round begins with rubbing the socked feet that are lying in her lap. When that does nothing to divert the professor, she slips her hand underneath the hem of his slacks to rub his calf. That also does nothing to move him._

_With a devious smirk, Hannah removes his legs to stand. She kneels beside the couch instead and begins to untuck his shirt. Her hand slips under the fabric, and she begins to lightly trace his abdominal muscles, moving up to his chest._

_Still reading, Castiel takes his free hand and takes hers from underneath his shirt and laces his fingers with hers. He absent-mindedly thinks he needs a highlighter and post-its and thinks of adding the book to his syllabus next semester and attempting to locate and find a Shaman to be a guest lecturer._

_Hannah giggles as she gives up. She instead lays on top of Castiel, the book held only slightly above her head as she rests her head on his chest. She barely feels as he places the book to the side for a moment. He inclines his head to kiss the top of her head and whisper:_

_“You will be the sole focus of my attention tonight, this I promise you.”_

The creature abhorred the memories that occasionally pressed themselves upon what would be its mind. Castiel was to be a _mission_ , not an _emotion_.

The being continues exploring the bedroom, opening drawers and scanning shelves. Everything seems extraordinarily boring and commonplace until it comes upon an email in a cheap desk drawer.

_Kaia,_

_I have not seen the world you describe. I think I might know who can help you._

_Go find Missouri Mosely in Lawrence, Kansas._

_~Derek_

The creature imprinted the document, and then took her leave.

*******

“Omelets good?” Dean inquired as he took a carton of eggs out of the fridge.

“Of course, Dean.” Cas was making the coffee and watched as it dripped, his anticipation apparent in every fiber of his being.

“I’m surprised you were as functioning as you were this morning without that.”

Cas spares him a questioning, raised brow that sent pleasant shivers down Dean’s spine.

“Just functional?”

And there is was, the flirtatious, smooth Castiel that Dean was so weak for. Not that every aspect of the man didn’t send tingles down his spine. He grinned as he set the eggs down and walked over to him.

“Think your _highly_ functional hot ass can chop up some vegetables?”

The look he got in return made Dean want to take Cas back to _their_ bed, but he had to work at some point. And he was forty for God’s sake.

“I can.”

Dean cleared his throat, again, as he grabbed peppers, mushrooms, spinach, and an onion and put them in front of Cas’s workstation. Before Cas started chopping, he made himself and Dean a cup of coffee.

Cas watched with appreciation as Dean flipped the slightly cooked eggs perfectly. He put the vegetables and cheese in the center along with some bacon (because Dean) and flipped them perfectly again. Castiel had to admit, it was incredibly sexy. Well, most things about Dean were sexy.

Dean felt the eyes and turned to look at his, wait, what were they exactly?

“Uh, Cas?”

“Hum.”

“I can kinda feel your eyes boring a hole.”

“Just appreciating the view, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes playfully and turned back to the omelets. He plated Cas’s and began to work on his own. Cas set their spots on the kitchen island and freshened their coffee and added glasses of cranberry juice. Dean wouldn’t buy the stuff except Sam called him one day totally geeking out over an article about how the stuff was healthy for _older_ men. Dean would’ve decked him, but the kid was so happy to offer Dean a tip for his health that the older brother in him won out and he bought the shit. And of course, Cas would drink it.

Dean sat across from Cas with his own plate and began eating. “So, what you got going on today?”

“I am meeting Claire at the park later; I suppose I should work on my books before that.”

“How are those going?”

Castiel thoughtfully took a bite of his breakfast. “I have been distracted.” He offers Dean a grin, which the man mirrors. “What are your plans for today, Dean?”

Dean had to swallow at the perfect use of his name by the beautiful man in front of him. He couldn’t get enough of Cas saying his name.

“I gotta go clean the rental guns for Bobby.”

Castiel nods. “Would you like for me to pick up dinner on the way home?”

Dean allowed the _home_ to wash over him before he responded. “Naw, man, I can cook when I get back, I mean, if that’s okay.”

“I adore your cooking.” Cas accentuated this point by placing another forkful of omelet into his mouth.

Dean feels the blush creep up underneath his collar, and he looks down at his plate. “Thanks, man.”

*******

The angel’s grace shirks at the cold sterility of the office he so readily despises. He regards the female angel in front of him with malice, agitated at his summoning. His glass remains steadfast in his hand as he takes the seat intended for him. The plushness of the white velvet does nothing to quell his unease.

“Thank you for coming.”

“I had no choice, you summoned me.”

“This is your job, Balthazar.”

The angel offers no reply, instead choosing to sip on the amber liquid held in his glass. He turns the glass in his hand, allowing the light that floods the room to reflect off the glasses’ many facets.

The angel in front of him opens a file folder on the desk in between them. She lays several papers side by side and points to each one as she offers a description. Balthazar sighs, missing the days gone by when he could take the folder and leave.

“Rhode Island, all the glass within a ten-mile radius of a town explodes, injuring hundreds.”

The next paper. “North Carolina, an earthquake occurs, the effects of which send dozens to the local hospital, overwhelming staff.”

The next paper. “Dickson, Tennessee: a man reports all the catfish in the pond on his property dying.”

The next paper. “Hellhounds were reported to have been in such pain they whined, whimpered.”

The last paper. “The gates of Heaven themselves were shaken, Balthazar. All these incidences occurred at the same time; this is not mere coincidence.”

The angel’s eyes look upon the female angel in front of him. “Do you expect me to stop such occurrences? I doubt I have the power, love.”

Her eyes harden and her jaw sets. Balthazar takes pride in her response.

“I expect you to discover what is behind these happenings or give me your source.”

Balthazar feigns contemplation as he takes another drink. He enjoys the hope he can see behind Naomi’s mask.

“No.”

She swallows, her hands folded in front of her. She sits straighter. “You have one week to discover the entity or being behind these happenstances.”

“Or…” He drew the word out, boredom apparent in every drawn-out millisecond.

“Or, you will find yourself removed from your duties.”

“Need I remind you; I only answer to one Being.”

“God is gone, Balthazar. You answer to me now.”

Balthazar hid his surprise well, a shrug of his shoulders the only thing offered to the angel in front of him. He holds his hand out for the folder. Naomi places it into his proffered hand, and then he flies away.

*******

Bobby was leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee when Dean came into the shooting range. Bobby raised his head at him in a type of nod. As he lowers it, he inclines his head to Dean’s neck.

“Cas come back?”

Dean feels the blush hit his cheek. He forgot Cas wasn’t as careful about the placement of his mark as he had been in the bathroom. He rubs the back of his neck.

“Uh, yeah.”

Bobby grins and Dean stares at him.

“Good.” Bobby’s head inclines to the locked case where they keep the guns people can rent to shoot. “Got about ten for you to strip and clean.”

“All right.” Dean starts walking towards his workstation, and he can feel Bobby’s eyes follow him.

“What Bobby?”

“You done being an idjit, boy?”

Dean sits down, takes the keys out of his jeans’ pocket, opens the case, and takes out a 9mm Smith and Wesson. He begins to field strip it for cleaning before answering Bobby.

“You talk to Sam?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t need to.”

Dean opens his cleaning case and pulls out a couple patches and a bottle of Hopps.

“I got mad, thought he betrayed me, and kinda just blacked out, or I guess a version of it. I was a dick to him, Bobby. I didn’t deserve for him to come back.”

“I think that’s one of your problems, boy.”

Dean stops cleaning to look at the man he so readily considered his father.

“You don’t think you deserve something, so you push it away.”

Dean returns to cleaning. “You think I deserve Cas?” Dean swallows and dares not look at Bobby.

“I think you deserve the world, son, but I guess I may be kinda partial.”

Dean grins, still keeping his head down. “I won’t lose him again Bobby.”

“Good. I think he’s good for you.”

Dean lifts his head, regarding his pseudo-father. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, ya idjit.”

*******

Rhea jumps at Cas’s legs as soon as the little dog spots him. He bends down to pick her up and then sits beside his niece.

“Hello Claire.”

“Hey Cas. You okay?”

Castiel sighs and looks towards the young lady he had a hand in raising. “I am fine, Claire. Dean and I reconciled.”

“I figured.” Claire smirks at him before looking at the people in front of them.

Cas shook his head back and forth. “I also killed a nest of vampires, which was tiresome.”

“A whole nest, Cas?” Claire is unable to hide her concern as she looks toward her uncle.

“I was very careful sweetheart. I hunted them one by one so I would not be ambushed.”

Claire relaxed only slightly. “Okay.”

“I am very sorry I worried you. The location I was at somehow miraculously had no cell reception. Even in the local library.”

“That’s really fucking weird, Cas.”

“Indeed.”

“So, uh, I met a girl.”

Cas’s brow furrows as he looks to his niece expectantly. “Did you now?”

Claire shakes her head and rolls her eyes good-naturedly before elbowing her uncle in the ribs.

“Yeah, uh, before you got here actually. I don’t know, I’m just kinda drawn to her I guess.”

“That can happen.” Cas rubs the space in between Rhea’s ears and she thanks him by licking his face. His face breaks into a full smile Claire loves to see on her uncle.

“Uh, I think we’re going to hang out soon.”

“Number one rule?”

Claire rolls her eyes again. “Be safe and careful. Cas, I got it promise.”

They sit there for a moment in companionable silence before Claire begins prodding.

“So, Dean…?”

Cas huffs out a laugh. “I am not entirely sure how to respond. I suppose the two of us should have a lengthy discussion. However, we are now sharing a room, and my ‘old’ room is being turned into an office.”

“I fucking knew it! I called it the first time we met him!”

Cas looks at her with slight disapproval. “As I have said, Claire, we have established nothing really. We will talk, however and rectify that.”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yes, deeply.”

“And Dean?”

Cas looks to her with a sad type of smile. “I believe Dean has been hurt in the past. I will have to earn his trust before he will feel comfortable being vulnerable with me. I broke it once by leaving, and he needs for me to prove that I will not do so again.”

Claire nods before petting Rhea, who still resides in Cas’s arms. “Yeah, I get that. You aren’t going to give up on him, are you?”

Cas looks to his niece and realizes she must connect with Dean on a level he could not understand. The realization hits him deeply in his gut, and he feels as if he were sucker punched by some monster. He should have recognized it before, the sense of abandonment, the anger.

“No, Claire. He is worthy and deserving of love, and I will not give up on him.”

Cas was referring to Dean, but he hoped Claire heard his words as well.

“Okay, good.” She offers him a smile.

“What do you say to ice cream?” Cas tried to ignore the fact he would be having pie tonight.

“Uh, yeah?”

*******

Kansas was playing through the Bluetooth speaker as Cas was assisting Dean in making their dinner.

“How was work?”

Dean smiled at the domesticity of the question. “Good, yeah. Uh, Bobby had me cleaning fucking everything.” He chuckled slightly. “You? How’s the kid?”

Cas smiles as he cuts potatoes into fry-sized pieces. “She is good. She has met a girl.”

Dean looks away from his heating oil to look at Cas. “Really?”

“Yes, she does seem very excited about it.”

“Did you get any details? Is this girl gonna treat her right?”

Cas abandons his potatoes to wrap his arms around Dean. “I adore your concern for my niece. It is very, very thoughtful.”

Dean returns the embrace and kisses Cas’s forehead. “I like the kid. She’s a good one, and she loves you, so uh… of course I care about her.”

Cas lets go of Dean to return to his potatoes. “These are almost ready. Are we going to have anything green?”

Dean almost sneers, but thinks of his… fuck, what was he? And Sam, who was always concerned for his health.

“Uh, I think we have some stuff for a salad if you want to put one together.”

Castiel nods as he hands the potatoes to Dean and looks in the fridge to gather the ingredients for a side salad.

“How do you like your steak, Cas?”

“Rare.”

Dean smiles at that, they have that in common which will make future dinners less troublesome.

“So, you wanna eat at the island tonight, or…”

Castiel regards him with a head tilt and a smile. “Well, I believe we should eat at the dining room table. Is this the third date? I believe I have lost count.”

Dean smiles, a pleasant happy thing that Cas feels in his soul. “Yeah, third. But if we count this morning…” The smile turns into a smirk.

Cas lets out a breath as he smiles at Dean, he feigns exasperation. “Same day, so third date.”

Dean pouts his lips in a comical fashion, moves his head back and forth as if he is deeply contemplating Cas’s statement and finally responds. “Makes sense.” ‘

*******

The city holds much history and the Void can feel it throughout his nothingness. The place he now resides is lush in its decadence. Sir occupies a plush chaise, covered in a rich purple velvet. He runs a long forefinger along the cushion, allowing the richness to overcome his nonexistent senses.

A man enters the luxuriantly decorated bedroom and begins to remove his ornate robes. He regards the Void and flinches.

“Tu chi sei?” (Who are you?)

“Io non sono nessuno.” (I am no one.)

The Cardinal looks around him. He attempts to go to the door for help, but it stopped when a long finger moves and the Cardinal is forced into a chair set opposite the chaise.

“Diavolo!” (Devil!)

The Void raises a single brow. His eyes move languidly to the Cardinal as the religious man begins an exorcism.

“Sancte Michael Archangele, ( _Blessed Michael, archangel_ )

defende nos in proelio; ( _Defend us in the hour of conflict_ )

contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. ( _Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the Devil_ )

Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur: ( _May God restrain him we humbly pray_ )

tuque, Princeps militiae caelestis, ( _and do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host_ )

Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, ( _By the power of God thrust Satan down to Hell_ )

qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, ( _and with him those other wicked spirits_ )

divina virtute, in infernum detrude. ( _Who wander through the world for the ruin of souls_ )

Amen.”

The Cardinal stills once he realizes his words have no effect.

“Sembra che non stia ascoltando.” (It appears that he is not listening)

“Vattene, demone malvagio.” (Be gone you evil fiend.)

The Void’s upper lip curls in a type of victory. The Cardinal attempts to rise but is unable.

“Qual è il contrario di niente, Sua Eminenza?” (What is the opposite of nothing, Your Eminence?)

The Cardinal straightens in his chair, gratified. “Il tutto.” (Everything)

“E cos'è tutto?” (And what is everything?)

Pride fills the Cardinal as he faces the evil in front of him. “Dio.” (God)

“Hum.”

The Void rises and slowly walks to the Cardinal. He places a hand with long fingers on the holy man’s head and closes his eyes. The Cardinal’s life force is slowly drained from him and absorbed by the nothing. His soul is consumed first, followed by his mind, his heart, his organs, blood, bone, and flesh. The only thing remaining are the ashes.

The Void breathes deeply, stretches, and minds his wounds. The tears are still present but stitched together by the everything contained in the holy man. The Void rolls his neck and smiles at his progress. However, it is not enough.

He needs more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading!! I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to hear from y'all!! Comments warm my heart. I appreciate kudos and subscriptions so much too y'all. Y'all are seriously the best and I cannot thank you enough for choosing to read this story. 
> 
> If the Italian was completely off the mark, I am so, so sorry!! I used google translate. 
> 
> The pictures of the New Orleans club were obtained from: https://www.sonesta.com/us/louisiana/new-orleans/royal-sonesta-new-orleans/photos
> 
> Thank y'all!! :-)


	11. The Devil We Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has a nightmare and Dean comforts him, the Void makes a journey and meets with one of his minions, Balthazar pops in, and Sam comes over for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so, so much for the kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks!! They mean so much to me and make me smile. I appreciate them and y'all so, so much!! I can't thank you enough for choosing to read this story!!
> 
> I do not own Supernatural, or any other TV Show, Book, Movie, Song, Website, Webpage, and/or App mentioned in this tale. 
> 
> I am so sorry it took me so long to update! I started classes back and they have taken up quite a bit of my time. This chapter is a pretty mild one, but opens the door for the scenes to come. Scenes that I am very excited to write. :-)
> 
> Thank you all so much for supporting this fic! I do so hope you enjoy this chapter!!

_“Cas, come on, it’s one dinner.”_

_Castiel regards his twin with much the same interest as he pays upon his colleagues whom he is trying to persuade to his way of thinking._

_“It’s Thanksgiving, and I enjoy spending it with you, Claire, and Amelia. The whole family, Jimmy, it’s…”_

_Jimmy pats him on the shoulder. “Cas, it won’t be bad, I mean, most of it will just be spent with Michael and Gabe arguing over morals or whatever.”_

_Cas’s face holds a smile as he looks at his brother. “I know when I am on the losing side of an argument. I concede.”_

_Jimmy’s face breaks into a full grin._

_“But Christmas…”_

_Jimmy nods. “Just ours, Cas. But can you maybe tone down the presents this year? I mean, Claire was opening stuff till noon.”_

_“She is my only niece, Jimmy. I adore her. Besides she picked out just as many gifts for the Angel Tree children.”_

_Jimmy looks down at his coffee cup and begins playing with the sleeve surrounding it._

_“You know, I uh… Amelia and I talked and uh…”_

_Cas’s eyes narrow as he tilts his head at his twin._

_“We uh… If anything happens to us, ever, we want you to have Claire. I had a lawyer draw up a document and if you’ll sign it whenever.”_

_Cas grips his brother’s hand, stilling the motion of playing with the sleeve. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Jimmy.” Tears swim in his eyes as he grips his brother’s hand tighter._

_“We don’t know the future Cas, and I’ll be so relieved if you sign it.”_

_Castiel nods, a sad thing. “Of course.”_

Cas wakes up suddenly, sitting up straight in bed. He pulls the covers off violently and runs his hand down his face.

Dean sits up next to him and begins rubbing his back. “Hey Babe, nightmare?”

Cas nods, the only action he is currently capable of making.

“They come with the job, Cas. I’m so sorry man.”

Castiel looks to him, eyes wild. “It wasn’t some monster, Dean. I was dreaming about my brother.”

Fuck. Dean rubs his face with his hand and pulls Cas to him. The man more or less collapses onto Dean’s chest. He continues to rub circles on Cas’s back.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Dean knows what bottling does, all he has to do is look in the mirror. So, since this is his boyfriend (he decided on the term when they climbed into bed side by side that night) he presses.

“You need to talk about it?”

Cas sighs. “Probably.”

“Would this go better with pie?”

Cas pulls his face away from Dean’s chest and Dean’s heart fills at the sight of a smile on the blue-eyed man’s face.

“Is everything an excuse for pie, Dean?”

“Uh… yeah?”

Cas rolls his eyes as he sits back on the bed. “Yes, pie.”

*******

“Okay, so talk.” Dean cuts a bite off with the edge of his fork and pops it into his mouth, waiting for Cas to talk.

“I… dreamt of when Jimmy told me I was to be Claire’s guardian if anything were to ever happen to him.” Cas takes a bite of his slice as well, although with much less gusto than Dean.

Dean nods. “Do you uh… have that one often?”

“I suppose I do, yes.”

“So, like I have this one, right? Where I meet up with the guy my dad caught me with, before Mom kicked him out. I talked about it with Sammy, and he thinks that uh… it’s like I’m trying to stop it.”

Cas looks to him, his head slightly tilted. Dean won’t meet his gaze, but instead focuses on his pie.

“You are suggesting I repeatedly have that dream because my brain sees it as a type of foreshadowing?”

Dean shrugs as he puts another bite of pie into his mouth. “Yeah.”

Cas sighs, a full body motion that moves the bed a little. “And I am subconsciously trying to save him?”

“I think so. I think mine are about trying to stop my dad from leaving.”

“That is a very astute observation Dean.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a very astute kinda guy.” Dean looks to him then and winks. He nods to Cas’s plate. “You gonna finish that?”

Cas smiles half-heartedly as he hands him the plate.

Dean puts both empty plates on the nightstand before settling back into bed and pulling Cas on top of him.

“I’m gonna have that dream, Babe, and I wake up screaming and hollering.” Dean begins to run his fingers through Cas’s hair. “And I won’t wanna talk about it, but you don’t give up on me, okay? You push, and you prod. Because I need to.”

Cas touches Dean’s lips gently with his own. He mumbles against the skin of his neck as he buries his head there: “I will never give up on you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean wraps his arms tightly around Cas’s body, one of his hands resting in Cas’s hair. They fall asleep once more.

*******

The Void breathes in the arid air through newly developed lungs. Passerby’s regard him with interest as his three-piece suit draws attention in the heat. He takes no notice of them as he climbs the stone stairs to the temple.

A Rabbi considers him kindly.

ברך את בני, איך אני אעזור לך? (“Welcome my son, how am I to help you?”)

The Void looks around at the impressive architecture of the ivory stone. 

אני זקוק לשירותים שרק אתה יכול לספק, הרב. (“I am in need of services only you can provide, Rabbi.”)

The holy man walks closer to the Void and holds out his hand. He indicates a place for them to sit, and the Void sits across from the Rabbi.

אתה צריך ייעוץ, בני? (“Do you need counsel, my son?”)

The Void looks into the man’s eyes, notices the smile, and the crow’s feet that came from years of the action.

אני רוצה לדעת את התשובה. (“I wish to know the answer.”)

לאיזו שאלה? (“To what question?”)

The Void straightens his cuffs, and his fingers run over one of the tears on his forefinger.

אני מניח, השאלה מה זה הכל? (“I suppose, the question of what is everything?”)

The Rabbi’s lip purse and he smiles sadly, a gentle thing that would warm the heart of many beings, but not the Void.

אין לי את כל התשובות בני. יש דברים שמוטב להשאיר לאדוננו. (I do not have all the answers my son. Some things are best left to our Lord.”)

The Void raises and lowers his head slowly, as if he is accepting the Rabbi’s response.

אתה יכול להגיד לי איך אני מוצא אותו? (Can you tell me how I am to find him?”)

The Rabbi smiles, a kind thing that comes from his soul.

הוא בכל מקום. הוא בטבע, בך, בי. עלינו למצוא אותו באשר אנו מסתכלים. (“He is everywhere. He is in nature, in you, in me. We are to find Him wherever we look.”)

בך? (“In you?”)

The Rabbi smiles.

כן. ובחברך. (“Yes. And in you, friend.”)

The Void nods as he places his palm against the Rabbi’s forehead. He closes his eyes as he absorbs the Rabbi’s force, his goodness, everything he is. His life is transferred into that of the Void, his _everything_ stitching together the tears even tighter. He looks to the pile of dust in front of him and sighs as he brushes off his palms.

The Void stretches his neck as he walks down the steps of the temple into the bright Jerusalem sun. His tears are all but healed and it is time to enact the next step of his plan.

Hannah.

*******

“You good with Sam coming over for dinner?”

Cas looks up from his waffles to look at Dean.

“Of course. And Jessica?”

Dean talks while chewing, a habit Cas still finds amusing.

“Uh, no. She is one of the speakers at a banquet for women in medicine. It’s kinda awesome really, all their proceeds go to a women’s shelter in town where a lot of Jess’s co-workers volunteer.”

Cas smiles, full of pride for his former student.

“That is very admirable.”

“Yeah, she’s a good one. So uh, Sammy’s really into salads and shit, so I was thinking we could do that.”

Cas furrows his brow and raises a slight brow, making Dean weak in the knees. “You are voluntarily eating salad, Dean?”

Fuck, and there was the beautiful use of his name. Dean clears his throat before speaking.

“Well, hey, the way I see it, I wanna be around a long time to enjoy this…” He gestures between them with a fork. “So, I figure, yeah, I can choke down a few salads.”

Cas smiles broadly, filling Dean’s heart. “On that note, are you accompanying me to the gym tomorrow night to spar?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Now that we both know, neither of us are pulling punches. Capisce?’

Cas nods, a smile on the corner of his lips. “I capisce.”

Dean clears his throat a little, looking down at his plate. He plays with the syrup with his fork, creating sticky rivers.

“Yeah, about that. I’m so fucking sorry leaving those vamps to you, Cas.”

Castiel shrugs. “I handled it.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. It’s my job, and I…”

Castiel stops him by pushing his stool away from the counter and encompassing Dean in an embrace. “We have already talked through this love, there is no reason to go over and through it again.”

Dean turns into him and captures Cas’s lips with his own in a sweet, chaste kiss. Cas breaks away and takes their plates to the sink, rinsing them. He turns the water off, and leans against the counter with his palms, his back to Dean.

“Our lives are not on the ‘normal’ path. It is fraught with tension and every day is uncertain. However, I adore you, Dean Winchester, and I will do my best and work my hardest to allow this to work. To make it work. That being said, we cannot blame one another for anything that has to do with the ‘life’ and decisions that will have to be made. We cannot allow any creature from Heaven, Hell, or in-between to use us against one another.”

Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s waist and buries his face into his shoulder.

“Are you saying I can’t pick you over the majority?”

Cas removes his hands from the counter and places his arms on top of Dean’s. “I am saying that would be the ideal decision.”

Cas can feel as Dean shakes his head into his shoulder. “I can’t promise that, man.”

Cas closes his eyes as he settles into Dean’s body more comfortably. “I am worried that I cannot either.”

*******

The angel enters the living room and drops a pile of file folders onto the coffee table before practically falling into one of the armchairs. He has a glass full of amber liquid in his hand, not spilling a drop as he haphazardly sat down.

“The fuck, Balthazar?”

The angel looks from Dean to Castiel on the couch.

“Oh goody, you made up.”

Castiel leans forward in his seat, laptop all but forgotten.

“Balthazar, what’s wrong?”

“Father left.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “God?”

Balthazar nods slightly. “Yes, that would be my father, Dean.”

Dean and Cas exchange looks. Cas scoots to the edge of the couch and puts a reassuring hand on the angel’s knee.

“I am sorry Balthazar. I know you will not be treated any kindlier by those who feel as if they are your superiors.”

The angel offers Castiel a small, sad smile. “No, I fear not. In fact, Naomi has threatened to replace me if I am unable to locate the being responsible for these…” He waves towards the file folders, “events.” He finishes his drink in one swallow and pours another from the ether.

Dean takes them and hands them to Cas once he is done perusing.

“Can’t you just make a call, get him back?”

Balthazar regards Dean with a type of boredom that borders on malice. “I don’t believe he is in range of my service provider, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes as he sits back on the couch to go over the files.

“These all happened at the same time, huh?”

“Yes. They are time-stamped I believe.”

Castiel’s lips purse and his eyes narrow as he looks at the papers containing the information about the hounds of hell and the gates of Heaven.

“We discussed once, how angel’s grace can have various natural impacts, such as small earthquakes or a storm.”

Balthazar’s eyes widen slightly as he takes a sip of his drink. Castiel takes the motion as an indication to continue.

“So, could these disturbances be something along the lines of an archangel?”

Dean shakes his head. “It’s too big, Cas. I mean, archangels got some juice, but this takes more mojo than they got.”

“Your boyfriend is correct, Cassie. I doubt even if they combined their power, they could create an event as powerful as creation itself.”

“How long do we have, Balthazar?”

“Well, Darling, Naomi has given me a week.”

“A fucking week?”

“Yes, Dean.” Balthazar rolls his eyes. “Are you ever going to lose your eloquence?”

“We will find the being responsible.”

“And then what, Cassie? We all have had our share of the common vampire, the run-of-the-mill ghoul, and several other degenerates, but this? Darling, be reasonable. Whatever _this_ is, is world-ending, and Father’s not home.”

Dean’s eyes narrow and he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth in contemplation. “Wait, you think He’s _scared_?”

“I have never known Father to be scared, However, I have also never known of an event that mirrored His power in terms of Creation itself.”

Castiel regards his friend kindly and with sympathy. “I do not know what exactly we will do after we find it, my friend, but we will find it. And then, we will decide what to do. If it is dangerous, we will fight it, however we can. We always find a way.”

Dean looks to his now boyfriend, pride written across all his features. “Fuck yeah we will.”

Cas is heartened to see the hint of a smile on the angel’s lips. “Thank you Darling, and Dean. If there is anyone to put faith in now, it is the likes of you two. And normally, that thought would chill me to the bone.”

Dean’s face is deadpan, widening the angel’s grin.

“However, we have overcome many things, we three individually. I can only surmise it will only be that more powerful together.”

As Cas smiles and pats Balthazar’s knee reassuringly, Dean mutters: “Dude must be drunk.”

“Well, off I go then, perhaps to recruit or try to gather intelligence. Do pray if an idea pops into either one of your heads. Good-bye Cassie, Dean.”

The angel flies away and Castiel leans back into the couch, surveying the folders. “I have never seen him like that, Dean.”

“Dude, me neither. Kinda scary.”

Cas hums in agreement. He looks at his laptop with one sentence written for his fictional novel. “I suppose publishing won’t matter if the world ends.”

Dean furrows his brow as he looks at Cas’s computer.

“Hey man, look, I’ll go over these, put together a timeline, you work on that, and then we’ll work on it together after dinner with Sam. He’s fucking fantastic with research.”

“Sam? He…”

“Oh yeah. Uh, Sammy used to hunt with me.”

Cas huffs out a type of chuckle. “Well, you are both extraordinary.”

Dean kisses Cas’s temple before heading to the now ‘office’.

*******

The creature who is inhabiting the form of Hannah starts when Sir appears across from her in an armchair. He straightens his tie and inclines his head towards her ever so slightly.

“I see you have found lodgings.”

The creature nods, trying to hold her contempt for the place that surrounds her. “Yes Sir.”

“Hum.” He looks around him critically. “And your plan?”

“I was awaiting instruction, Sir.” The creature looks at her fingernails and begins pushing down the cuticles in nervousness.

“Well, here I am.” He opens his arms, indicating the obviousness of his statement.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me, _Hannah_ , how are you to meet him without arousing his suspicion?”

The creature meets Sir’s eyes, their brows holding a mix of malice and interrogation.

“I plan to ‘bump into him’ at the grocery.”

The Void turns his head to the side, a very slight, almost imperceptible, smile playing on the right side of his mouth.

“Indeed?”

“Yes Sir. It seemed to be an incident of happenstance.”

The Void rights his head and nods. He places his hands in front of him, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. He presses his fingertips together in a type of praying motion.

“And what are you to say when you encounter him?”

“I will indicate surprise.”

“Will you now?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hum.” The Void’s eyes look toward the ceiling and he begins to move his fingers so that the tips will disconnect and reconnect once more, in a type of drumming against each other motion.

“Why will you be surprised?”

The creature falters. It searches Hannah’s memories, looking for the correct response. “I was unaware of his location.”

“Ah. Even though you worked at his University?”

“Yes. I was not informed as I am in a different department.”

“Did you not take a _personal_ interest?”

“No.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I was married.”

“Ah. And why are you here now?”

“Fate.”

The Void smirks as he regards his minion.

“Do elaborate.”

“I believe Castiel and I were thrown into the same circle once more because we were meant to be together.”

The Void nods. “I see.”

“I came here for a fresh start, and I believe he is it.”

“I almost believe you, _Hannah_.”

“Almost, Sir?”

“You have not allowed the emotions of the true Hannah to overcome you, have you?”

“I…” The creature looks to the side, avoiding the Void’s penetrating gaze. “I have not.”

“May I ask why?”

“She is conflicted, in turmoil. It is upsetting to say the very least. And her feelings towards her husband overweigh her feelings of Castiel.”

“Hum. You see, it is your mission to control the emotions that flood through her memories. Keep those of Castiel and disregard those of her husband. It is not difficult.”

“Yes, Sir.”

It was unpleasant, feeling, and the creature abhorred it. But she knew she must follow the instructions of Sir, regardless of anything.

“Good. And when are you to enact this first meeting?”

“I believe he will go to the grocery store tomorrow morning.”

“Hum. I find that plan agreeable. You will, of course, consult me after?”

“Yes, Sir.”

With a nod, the Void disappears. The creature allows a breath to escape she was not aware her form was holding. She sighs, a human emotion she picked up from Hannah’s memory, knowing she does not truly want to meet Castiel, but that she must.

*******

“Dude, it doesn’t even really count if you put that much dressing on it.”

Dean grimaces at his brother as Cas chuckles. “It’s still vegetables, Sam. It counts.”

“How is Jessica, Sam?”

“She’s great Doc… Cas. Uh, she just got a grant for her clinic, so that’s been awesome. Uh, she found me a single mom who needed some legal work done for a rental issue, so I’ve working some pro-bono too. It’s uh, it’s been good. You?”

San didn’t really even think as he asked the question, he basically knew the answer from Dean’s mounds of trash only days ago. And now everything was clean-ish and Dean looked happy, and Sam couldn’t help but notice as Dean subtly kissed Cas’s cheek and forehead on numerous occasions the less than one hour he’d been there. It was a polite thing to ask, and it just slipped.

“I am well, thank you, Sam for your kindness. I am afraid my friend finds himself in a bit of trouble, however, and Dean thinks you can help.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Legal trouble?”

He hears Dean’s scoff and looks at him for only a second before focusing on Castiel once more.

“No, I think that would be preferable. Actually, it is Balthazar.”

Sam nods as he purses his lips. “Uh, yeah, okay. Research?”

“Yeah, Sammy. We’re not asking you to go back in the field, man.”

“Dean… I, I would, you know that, if you needed me.”

“Sammy, no man, we agreed. You get married, you’re out.”

Sam nods once more. “Yeah, we did. Okay, so, after we eat, I’m guessing there’s file folders? That angel always had file folders.”

Cas lets a type of laugh escape his nostrils. “Yes, file folders.”

They spread the papers out on the table and Dean plops his timeline in the middle of it. “Okay, so first, there’s this seismograph Balthazar gave to Cas.”

Sam nods as he inspects the document. “And Cas, this was the one Balthazar said was as big as Creation itself?”

Castiel nods. “Yes. And then, there was Marv.”

“Dude, what?”

Cas bites the corner of his lip every so slightly. “The goo?”

“Cas, the hell? The stuff you called slime? That you put in Tupperware?”

Castiel nods, embarrassment apparent in his face. Dean laughs, a hearty thing, filling Cas with mirth.

“So, that was some thing you ganked, not slime?”

Cas nods again.

“And I knocked you face first into it? Dude, I just thought you were concussed.”

“Well. The evening did have pleasant memories.”

Dean smirks at Cas’s comment, and Sam clears his throat.

“Okay, so event number one, then Marv, who…” Sam picks up the file folder with the MIT results of Marv “consisted of nothing? The hell?”

“Yes, it seems that although the substance was an actual substance and could be felt, the make-up was nothing. Which in itself is an enigma.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Sam writes ‘Marv’ in on Dean’s timeline. “Okay, so then, we got these other events that all happened at the same time.”

“Yup.” Dean takes a swig of his beer, and keeps stealing glances at Cas’s absolutely beautiful, concentrated face.

Cas’s brow furrows as he looks at the times on the paper. “Dean?”

“Hum?” Dean leans forward, and not so subtly this time places his hand on the small of Cas’s back since the professor is now standing and hovering over the table.

“Are these not the times we…”

“Dude!”

Cas looks at Sam questioningly, and then once realization hits him, his cheeks flush. Dean, however, chuckles.

“No, Sam, no. Umm…” Cas puts his finger on the first ‘event’. “This is when we went to the botanical gardens.” He places his finger on the other ‘events’, “And this is when I came back.”

Sam leans back, brow furrowed. “I mean, that’s just a coincidence, right? Has to be.”

Cas sits back down and Dean moves his hand to around his beer. His face is pensive. “I mean, can we narrow down the exact times though?”

Cas shakes his head. “No, I suppose we cannot.” He looks to the ceiling. “Okay, so let’s strike that thought.”

“Okay, so what if Marv was like a part of the whole thing?”

Cas and Dean look to the youngest Winchester questioningly.

“Like, what if the main guy is made from nothing too?”

Castiel breathes in slowly, focusing. “In all honesty, Sam, I can think of not one creature that is comprised from nothing.”

“All right, so God left, right?”

Sam and Cas nod.

“Okay, so, we know this thing is God-sized because of this first thing.”

They nod again.

“What do we know that is the equivalent of God?”

Cas blows air out through his cheeks as Sam offers a few suggestions.

“Zeus, Jupiter, uh… Lucifer?”

“Oh, hell no.” Dean leans back in his chair.

Cas’s lips purse. “It couldn’t be, could it? We already decided an archangel did not have this type of power.”

“Yeah, but he was special, wasn’t he? I mean, like kinda the evil to God’s goodness? The dark to the light? The nothing to God’s everything?”

“I do not know if he is more powerful than the other archangels, Sam, I’ve never had reason to ask the question.”

“Okay, let’s say he is. How do we stop the Devil?”

Sam shrugs as he sits back. “Uh, angel blade?”

Cas looks up suddenly. “No, Marv did respond to the angel blade, but he wasn’t a demon. So, it’s probable this is not Lucifer.”

“He is the father of deceit though, Cas. I mean, he could be trying to throw us off, you know?”

Castiel regards his former pupil proudly. “Indeed. So, if this a course of action we wish to persue, how do we do so?”

Dean shrugs like the answer is the easiest thing in the world. “We ask him.”

Cas pulls his bottom lip into his mouth before answering his boyfriend. “We ask Satan?”

“Yeah.”

Sam rolls his eyes slightly. “Dean.”

“Sammy, come on, it’s not like we don’t have connections.”

“I am sorry, you have connections to Satan?”

Dean smirks at his boyfriend before pulling a draw from his beer.

“We may have had dealings with a crossroads demon who got promoted.”

Castiel looks at Sam, befuddled. “Dealings?”

“Yeah, you know, you do this, we don’t stab you.”

“Oh.” Castiel feigned understanding as he looked back towards a paper.

“We’ll just ask him Cas, and he’ll be stuck in a Devil’s trap the whole time, so no worries.”

“Oh yes, I find this is probably something I should not worry about.”

Sam snickered and Dean looked to him, deadpan.

“How many demons you killed, Cas?”

Castiel shakes his head and looks to Dean with only the corners of his eyes. “Several.”

“All right. And he’ll provide info, and then we’ll know for sure if it’s Lucifer or not.”

“And if not?”

Sam answers as Dean takes another swig. “We’ll go from there. We’ll get him.”

Castiel smiles at him. “Yes, Sam, we will. Thank you.”

“Of course, I don’t know, I’m kinda fond of the world.”

Dean gets up and slaps Sammy on the back. “You want anything else, Sammy?”

Sam looks at his watch as he’s straightening the papers. “No thanks, I probably need to head on home, Jess will be back soon.”

“All right. Drive safe, man.”

“Text us when you get home.”

Sam smiles at Cas and grabs him up in a hug. Cas is surprised at first, but eventually returns the gesture, prompting a chuckle from Dean.

Sam hugs Dean as well before leaving.

*******

“I have a suspicion an angel blade will do nothing to beat the Devil.”

Dean comes out of the bathroom to Cas sitting cross-legged on the bed, already looking defeated.

“Eh, we’ll find a way.” He sits in front of him.

“Dean, the Devil?”

Dean shrugs, a smile on the right side of his lips. “I don’t know about you, Cas, but I kinda feel like I can do anything right now.”

He holds Cas’s head with one hand and pulls their faces together, kissing him. He enjoys the feeling of Cas in every imaginable way. He knows Lifetime would scoop this shit up, but even their mouths fit perfectly together.

As their kiss becomes more heated and needy, Dean carefully lowers himself on top of Cas as Cas sinks back into the bed. Just like he did prior, Cas switches their positions easily and Dean finds himself smiling, breaking the kiss.

Cas moves to Dean’s neck, causing the other man to make a noise between a chuckle and moan.

“What is it, love?” Cas manages to utter, hardly taking a break from Dean’s neck.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas, making their bodies join even further. “I kinda love it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Take charge.”

“Hum.” The mumble is last truly coherent conversation for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading!! I would love to hear from y'all!! Kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks are so very much appreciated as well! Thank you all!
> 
> I apologize if the Hebrew was completely and totally off the mark. I used Google translate, and I hope it turned out correctly.


	12. Take Me To Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas meets a familiar face in the grocery store parking lot, Billie and Crowley get dessert, the Void appears to John and Lee, and the boys summon a demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for the kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions!! They mean so much to me and make me smile. :-) 
> 
> I do not own Supernatural or any other TV Show, Movie, Book, Song, Website, Webpage, and/or app mentioned in this tale. 
> 
> I am so sorry it has taken me so long to update!! I have had a lot going on the past week and a half and it took me far longer to write this then I intended. 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: John continues with his homophobic slurs
> 
> I have included a link to the song that inspired the title of this chapter, and quite a bit of this fic. This video is powerful and contains disturbing content: the video itself comes with a warning. It features a gay couple and the discrimination (brutal) they face at the hands of people who believe they are on the side of right. I wanted to issue a warning for the video in case any of y’all wanted to watch it. It was only while I was looking up the link that I discovered the video since before I had either listened to the song on the radio, or on some other medium where the video wasn’t playing. The video hit me hard, and I had no idea it would tie so completely into this story. The video is intense, and sad, and so incredibly symbolic. If y’all are interested in the video as an artistic medium, here is a link for an analysis of the piece: https://medium.com/thelatespace/hoziers-take-me-to-church-b27663bc516f#:~:text=The%20music%20video%20for%20'Take,many%20parts%20of%20the%20world.  
> This person is able to convey the meaning behind the video and what it means to the LGBTQ+ community. As I said previously, it is a very powerful, moving, and meaningful video. 
> 
> Thank you so very much for reading, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

[Take Me To Church ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVjiKRfKpPI)

There was certain type of peace that accompanied Castiel Novak when he knew he would be waking up next to Dean. He could not explain the feelings, even with all the words he knew in various languages. There was something _right_ about slowly opening his eyes, still heavy with sleep, and seeing Dean’s body close to his. This morning he was pressed up against the other man, his face in Dean’s neck. He begins to trail his lips up and down Dean’s neck, causing the green-eyed man to make slight moans in pleasure.

“Mornin’ Cas.”

“Good morning, Dean.”

Dean turns around so that they are face to face.

“You ready to summon a demon?”

“Is that really the appropriate question to ask at this time?” Cas begins to explore Dean’s jaw line with his pale pink lips.

Dean’s head tilts up and Cas moves to his neck.

“Cas?”

“Hum?”

Fuck it. There were twenty-four hours in a day and Crowley could be summoned in one of the later ones.

“Uh, nothing, you’re good.”

Cas breaks from Dean’s neck to lift his head and meet Dean’s gaze, a twinkle in a sea of blue. “Just good, Dean?”

His name from those lips was a truth being spoken by a holy man during a sermon. The name was a worship from lips Dean now knew were his. Lips he himself had a type of worship for. Lips that enjoyed exploring every inch of his body. Lips he held between his own in a type of reverence, disbelief they were actually on his.

“Fucking fantastic, Cas.”

That fucking eyebrow again, accompanied by a raspy: “Better.”

Yeah, Dean Winchester was completely and totally whipped.

*******

The reaper surveys her surrounds with feigned disinterest. She is a true master at the gesture, making everything and everyone seem unimportant. Her beautiful brown eyes settle on the demon sitting at a table set for two outside a café in Paris. The scenery is beautiful, and she finds a very slight smirk playing on the right side of her lovely lips. She moves gracefully towards the demon and takes the seat he intended for her.

“Hello love.”

With a honey drawl she replies, “Crowley.”

His mouth twitches, trying to hide the smirk threatening to escape. Her eyebrow quirks, in tune with what he fails to conceal.

“I took it upon myself to order.”

“Hum.” She takes a sip from the small mug in front of her, a motion the demon follows closely with his eyes.

Crowley follows suit, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin that had been laying in his lap after his sip.

“Last I was here; I did not have nearly as pleasurable company.”

Billie’s eyes hold the slightest of a twinkle as she regards the creature in front of her. “Knowing you, you were probably helping some of the nobles to escape.”

Crowley is unable to hide his smile as he sits back in his chair. “Do you think so little of me?”

Without hesitation but accompanied by a smile: “Yes.”

Their waitress approaches carrying two plates of pastries. She places the one with strawberries in front of Billie and the one with raspberries in front of Crowley. She smiles at each of them in turn before settling her eyes back onto the demon.

“Avez-vous besoin d'autre chose, Monsieur?” (“Do you need anything else, Sir?”)

“Je pense que c'est tout pour le moment, merci.” (“I think that is all for now, thank you.”)

She nods, smiles, and leaves.

Crowley delicately uses his fork to break into his pastry. He gingerly places the confection into his mouth, and his lips close around the fork the same time his eyes close in pleasure. He opens them to find Billie staring at him, a slight smile at play on her lips.

“Are you dissatisfied with your selection?”

“I was just watching you.”

A self-satisfied smug expression comes over the demon’s face. “Oh, really?”

Billie makes a sort of affirmative ‘hum’ in the back of her throat. She picks up her fork and cuts into her pastry, filling her utensil. “You have cream in your beard.”

She places the pastry in her mouth, making small moans of pleasure as she allows the confection to overtake the senses on her tongue.

The demon is speechless and helpless to do anything but watch her.

Her soulful eyes happen upon him, and she takes pride in rendering him speechless, since one of his drawbacks is not possessing the ability to shut the hell up.

She begins to divulge what she came for between bites of the wonderful French confection.

“Your pets whined due to nothing.”

Crowley shakes himself from the trance he seems to always be in when in front of the presence of Billie to focus on her words.

“Beg pardon?”

“There were far more happenstances than the hounds of Hell whining, Crowley. Several rather _unnatural_ disasters along with the gates of Heaven shaking.”

Crowley straightens his tie as he leans forward. “The gates of Heaven, love?”

“Mm-hum.”

Her nonchalance stymies him, as he is both annoyed and impressed by it.

“But, it is _nothing_?”

The reaper shrugs as she places the last forkful of pastry into her mouth.

“There are cosmic events that happen over millennia, and this just happens to be one of them. But, there is nothing seemingly behind them, so yes, it is _nothing_.”

Crowley licks his lips as he sits back in his chair. “To be clear, you are suggesting the entity responsible is _nothing_?”

“With a capital “N”, Baby.”

Crowley sighs as he smiles at the woman in front of him, a suggestive gesture she smirks at.

“Well then, I suppose we should make the best of it, Love. Have any plans?”

Billie cocks an eyebrow at him. “’You do still owe me for the information.”

“Is this a payment I will enjoy giving?”

“Hum. I suppose that depends on your definition of enjoyment, demon.”

Crowley summons the waitress as she passes by.

“L'addition s'il vous plait.” (“The bill, please.”)

*******

“Cas, you going to the store today?”

Dean stares into the fridge, finding nothing inspirational or helpful. He pulls out a half gallon of milk and sets it on the island.

Castiel places two mugs on the surface, followed by two bowls he gets from a cabinet. Dean pulls a box of cereal from the cabinet above the fridge and they sit down.

“I am, yes. Do you have a list?”

Dean nods as he pours Cookie Crisp into his bowl. “Yeah, it’s uh, on the fridge there. You sure you’re okay with doing the shopping? I can go after work.”

“Oh no, Dean, it’s fine. I do not mind going. Besides, we have to summon a demon when you get home from work. Will Sam be joining us?”

Dean sticks a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, milk dribbling down his chin. Castiel follows its path.

“Uh, yeah. He’ll be here round seven I think. We uh, normally do it in the shop, I already have a trap there.”

“Normally?” Cas’s eyes narrow, prompting a chuckle from Dean.

“Yeah, Cas. Uh, we probably don’t hunt exactly the same, man.”

Castiel nods, “Apparently.”

Dean gestures betwixt them with his empty spoon, “But, we’re both still alive, so we must be pretty damn good at it.”

Castiel smiles slightly. “Yes, it seems we are both capable.”

“In so many ways, Cas.”

“Hum.”

*******

Castiel marveled at the list Dean gave him. It had so many items, none of which included frozen meals. He sighed, defeated, as Patience walked up beside him.

“Need some help there, Doctor Novak?”

Cas looked at her, gratefulness written in blue. “Oh, do you mind? Are you positive helping me will not get you into trouble with your manager?”

“Of course not, it’s my job. Besides, we’re kinda dead.”

He hands her the list and they begin to walk around the store together.

“So, what’s your next pie going to be?” She asks as she places a head of iceberg lettuce and a package of romaine into the cart.

“What would you recommend?”

Patience ponders as she picks out some tomatoes. “Well, how comfortable are you with meringue?”

Cas nods slightly. “Fairly.”

“I’m impressed.” Patience smiles at him as they approach the cold juices. “Okay, so how about coconut cream?”

“Is that difficult?”

“Well, you made a cherry pie completely from scratch, so I’m pretty sure you got this.”

“Thank you for your confidence, Patience. Would you help me select the ingredients?”

“Of course! Still wanting to do the handmade crust? Cream pies are kinda involved, so maybe a frozen would be better?”

“I trust your judgment.”

“Okay. But, you have to promise me something?”

He narrows his eyes at her.

She laughs slightly. “Take a picture of the finished product to show me.”

Cas chuckles. “Of course.”

Castiel is loading the groceries into the trunk of the Mark V when he hears a familiar voice call his name. Goose flesh attacks him, almost making him unable to react, to move. _No, it couldn’t be, not here_.

“Castiel?” The voice is unassuming, surprised, and sincere.

Castiel forces himself to turn around, years of training overcoming his brain’s need to flee right the fuck now.

“Hannah?”

She smiles at him, a smile he is overly familiar with. But there is something else there that Castiel cannot place, and he finds it slightly terrifying. He writes it off to nerves and wets his lips nervously.

She adjusts the strap on her shoulder, and lets her arms hang loosely at her sides. “What are you doing here?”

Castiel breathes in deeply. He shuts the trunk and begins to drum his long fingers on the handle of the cart.

“I’m on sabbatical.”

Then it hits him, and he inquires:

“What, what are _you_ doing here?”

This was it. This was the moment the creature had to shine, the moment it had to deceive the man her memories from Hannah told her was not easily deceived and very, very capable. _Emotion_.

Hannah looks down, shifts her weight slightly from one foot to the other, looks at the sky, and finally looks into Castiel’s eyes.

“Uh, yeah, umm, I wanted a change.”

Castiel’s eyes narrow, his brow furrows, and he repeats her statement, making it a question.

“A change?”

“Yeah, uh… So, I um…” Hannah allows a puff of air to escape her nose, in what the creature hopes is a sardonic fashion. “I left Joe. He just, he wasn’t it, Cas.”

Castiel steels his nerves. He grips onto the handle of the cart, as if for support. He remains quiet, assuming she will continue.

“I just couldn’t stay there anymore, the west coast. I knew I needed a fresh start, but I’m used to bigger cities, so, I decided on here.”

Hannah walks closer to him, encroaching his space. The cart separates them, which Cas is grateful for.

“But, you know, maybe its fate, that we’re both here.”

“I’m not staying here.”

It spewed out, his words. There were so many other things he could have said, so many other things that made sense, but that was the first thing that came to mind and it escaped his lips without permission.

Hannah nods. “Okay, but Cas, this is more than just a coincidence, don’t you think?”

Castiel averts his eyes and purses his lips. He thinks this time, before he speaks.

“Do I believe it was Fate that sent me here? Perhaps. But Hannah, not in order to reconnect with you.”

Hannah nods as she looks to the pavement. She reaches out and puts her hand on top of Cas’s, the one nervously drumming against the handle of the cart. He doesn’t move it, and the creature takes that as a positive sign. Progress.

“Well, I’d like to think it was. Maybe not as lovers, or partners, but Cas, there will always be something between us. You were everything I didn’t know I needed.”

Castiel thinks to his refrigerated and frozen groceries and is thankful they were in cold bags. June was unforgiving in the Southern sun.

“I would like to say that is flattering, and I suppose it is. However, Hannah, I have a new life here, one which I am very fond of keeping.”

Hannah begins to rub the back of Castiel’s hand with her thumb. “I understand, Castiel. I do. But, I’m not asking for you to take me back, I could never do that. I’m asking for a friend. Do you think we could maybe try that?”

_No. No. No._

“Yes.”

Hannah smiles, and Castiel has to remind himself that smile is no longer home.

“Coffee? Maybe next week? I still have the same number.”

Castiel nods, unable to meet her eyes.

She takes her hand away and takes the cart with her as she heads to the front of the store.

“I look forward to it.”

“Me too.” He mumbles, barely coherent.

Castiel gets behind the wheel of his Lincoln and rests his head on the steering wheel trying to process what the fuck just happened.

*******

The motel is dingy, and its ambience offers a lot to be desired. The Void runs his long index finger along the top of the television and looks at it in disgust. He wipes his hand with the handkerchief he keeps in the inside pocket of his jacket just as Lee and John enter the room, covered in blood.

“I told you I could’ve fucking taken them, you little shit.”

Lee pushes John against the now closed door with his free hand, the other holding onto a duffel. “You are such a self-important bastard. I should’ve let them rip you apart.”

“Why didn’t you?” Snarled between gritted teeth.

“Because…” Lee pushes into him harder, causing John to wince. “I ain’t going to find Dean only to tell him I got his fucking asshole of a dad killed.”

John smirks and the creature posing as Lee wants nothing more than to punch him right in his mouth.

“Yeah, don’t want to disappoint your boy toy. Fucking pussy.”

It’d be so easy to kill him right then, so easy to just take his breath from him, crush his windpipe, and the creature thinks about it seriously, consequences be damned.

A slight cough from the corner takes his attention as he releases John and drops the duffel next to one of the beds.

John pulls a .45 from his waistband and points it at the Void while Lee rolls his eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The Void walks closer to John with a tilted head. “You are so full of anger and hate, you are quite a pathetic creature, even by humanity’s standards.”

“Yeah, well…” John empties the clip into the Void, each bullet falling off his chest and piling around his form on the russet colored carpet.

The Void looks down at the ammo and sighs. “Those proved to be… ineffective.”

“What are you?”

Lee relishes the look of fear in hazel eyes.

The Void brushes off the front of his suit and looks John Winchester in the eye.

“I thought about creating another like you with a form, however, I thought it would be impossible to fully capture what you are.”

“What?”

“You are Dean’s ultimate weakness, Lee is a close second.” The Void gestures with long, thin fingers to the creature imitating Lee Webb.

“Lee was so full of kindness, of the human emotion known as love that is was not difficult to replicate his form. But you are so empty you could not be created even from the nothing.”

John scoffs. “Look, I don’t know what you’re selling you son-of-a-bitch, but I ain’t buying, so you can get the hell out.”

The Void looks to Lee. “Leave us.”

Lee nods as he heads to the bathroom with a change of clothes, more than willing to wash the remnants of vampire from his newly formed skin.

The Void takes a seat at the motel’s table, gesturing for John to take the other. He is unsure why, but he does so. He sits back in his chair, hands folded in his lap.

“You may address me as ‘Sir’ for the duration of this conversation, however, after you will have no memory of me.”

“The fuck I won’t, you can’t go digging around in my…”

The hunter is quieted by a long finger being placed in front of thin lips.

“You are in no position to tell me what I can and cannot do, Mr. Winchester.”

The Void places hands interlaced on top of the table. His dark eyes look into the man in front of him.

“As I said, you are an integral part in the battle I am waging against your son and his companion. A man whom you do not yet know but will soon become acquainted with. You see, Dean has always chosen you over his companions. Why, I cannot fathom.”

John growls against his supernaturally closed lips.

“I assume this time will be no different, no matter how profound their bond may be.”

The Void pulls a pipe from the ether and fills it with tobacco he keeps in a Persian slipper in his inner pocket. He draws a matchbox from the same pocket and lights it slowly. He allows the smoke to fill his pseudo lungs before continuing.

“From Lee’s memories we were able to ascertain that Dean feels a certain type of shame when it comes to you. He is unable to stand against you and internalizes it in his relationships. I believe this will prove useful.”

Sir blows perfect rings of smoke, the circles floating above his head.

“When you meet Castiel, you are to attack him on every level possible, make Dean regard him differently. All of his failures will be associated with Castiel, and he should fall out of love rather quickly.”

The Void allows John to speak.

“Love?” John scoffs. “The boy ain’t got the goods to love, he just likes to fuck.”

The Void taps the mouth of his pipe against his teeth. “Interesting you think that way. Dean is capable of great love, even a creature such as I born from the nothing can sense that, feel that. And that love will be my destruction if gone unchecked, for you see, love is everything, the everything to my nothing.”

“That’s a load of shit. You sound like some fucking movie.”

The Void shrugs, taking another draw from his pipe. “Perhaps, but that does not negate its truth.”

“What’s in it for me?”

Sir raises a solitary eyebrow. “I do not offer deals Mr. Winchester. For you see, I am neither angel nor demon. You will simply do as told, for you have no choice.”

“I have a choice, _Sir_ , I can tell you to go fuck yourself.”

The Void smirks, a dangerous gesture, and John swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“You will comply, as I said, you have no choice.”

“Why is this new pansy such a threat, huh?”

Sir takes another thoughtful draw of his pipe. “You will find out, Mr. Winchester. Although you are one of the worst specimens humanity has to offer, which is saying quite a bit, I suspect even you will feel _it_ in their presence.”

“Feel what?”

“Everything.”

The creature assuming Lee’s identity comes out of the bathroom, rugged towel running though long hair. He finds John laying across one of the beds, and he is somewhat disheartened to see the man’s chest rise and fall. He looks to the Void, who is still occupying his seat at the table.

“Sir.”

The Void nods. “Lee. Are you prepared to meet with Dean Winchester?”

Lee sits on the unoccupied bed and nods. “Yes, Sir.”

The Void cocks his head to the side as he taps his fingers on the table’s surface. “You are hesitant?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”

“This man _feels_ so intently for Dean, Sir, that I fear I will not be able to control the emotions once this form lays eyes on him.”

“Hum.” The Void nods thoughtfully. “I understand. However, that is simply indicative of the fine job you have done assuming Lee’s identity. You have embraced your calling completely.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Your emotions can run rampant with Dean, I feel as if that will be the best course of action, in fact. He seems to be quite the emotional creature.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The Void’s eyes travel to the figure laying prostrate on the bed.

“That is a despicable mortal, but he will prove useful.”

The creature dares a question he knows he shouldn’t ask. “Once his usefulness has worn thin, may I kill him, Sir?”

The Void smiles with the right side of his mouth. He nods once and regards his creation. “Yes, you may.”

*******

Dean comes home from working at Bobby’s to Cas enveloping him in strong arms as soon as he gets in the door. Cas’s lips are on Dean’s neck as soon as the door is closed.

“Whoa there tiger.” He laughs, dropping his keys into a bowl they keep on a small table beside the door.

Cas doesn’t heed Dean’s words as his lips move from Dean’s neck to his mouth, completely encompassing Dean in every way he could. Dean walks them to the couch and allows Cas to be on top of him.

Cas breaks away from Dean’s mouth and looks down at the beauty of the other man. Dean’s green eyes are colored with lust and his perfect lips are slightly swollen and wet from Cas’s attention. His hair is mussed from Cas’s wandering hands, and the professor is entranced.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hiya Cas.” Dean smiles, a beautiful thing, and Cas’s lips once more touch his.

Dean’s arms wrap around the other man easily and Cas settles onto him, his face buried in Dean’s shoulder.

Dean kisses his ear, then slightly nibbles it, eliciting a beautiful deep throated noise from his boyfriend’s throat.

“Did you have an okay day, Babe?”

Cas contemplates an answer. He wants this to work, with Dean, so much. He found his home in green eyes and calloused hands.

“I do not know how to answer that.”

“Try?”

Cas sighs, and Dean sits them up, so that they can talk more effectively.

“Did I tell you about Hannah?”

The name goes straight to Dean’s gut. He swallows around the lump rising in his throat.

“Uh, Claire did.”

Cas nods as he looks at his hands. “She is here.”

Dean’s surprise is evident in his tightening grip around Cas’s shoulders. “Like, here as in Atlanta?”

Castiel nods once more as he risks a look into Dean’s eyes. “I agreed to a coffee.”

Dean nods as he bites the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, uh, you probably have some catching up to do. Is uh, her husband with her?”

Cas breaks their gaze as he looks to the ceiling. “Apparently, she left him and needed a ‘fresh start’.”

Dean smiles slightly at the man’s air quotes, but his joy is quelled by fear. “Uh…” This was the person Cas was going to marry. “Umm… are you, uh…”

Castiel knows Dean well enough to know his doubt, his self-loathing, his lack of confidence when it comes to him, and he stops him before he can continue.

“Dean, I love you. I am in love with you. Yes, Hannah was my home for many years, but now, when I think of home all I think of are emerald greens, hands rough from years of work exploring my body, causing immense pleasure, and perfectly shaped dark pink lips following their actions.”

Dean was turned the fuck on by that and passionately kissed the professor, causing a sinful moan to escape his throat. Dean wondered how much strength it would take to carry Cas to their bedroom. But Cas breaks their kiss, quashing his hopes.

“Sam will be here soon, and I believed we promised him dinner, he texted me earlier and asked if I could pick up some mixed fruit for dessert.”

Dean rests his forehead against Cas’s. “Sammy is such a cockblock.”

Cas laughs slightly. He rests his palm on Dean’s cheek, and Dean leans into the touch.

“You are my Fate, Dean Winchester.”

*******

The trio stand around a Devil’s trap that was inlaid into the shed’s concrete floor. There is a slight opening that is filled with paint so the demon in its midst can escape when the paint is scratched.

“This seems slightly dangerous, and quite insane.” Castiel sighs.

Dean chuckles as Sam snorts. “Yeah, seems crazy, but it’ll work, Cas, promise man.”

“We’ve done it lots of times before, Cas, it’ll be okay.” Sam smiles slightly at Castiel, and the professor takes comfort in the gesture.

Castiel simply nods, unsure, as he mixes the herbs in the copper bowl. With words recited in a tongue that sounded as natural as if it were on the lips of Julius Caesar, Castiel summons a demon who referred to himself as ‘Crowley’.

“An angel who did not so much fall as saunter vaguely downwards.”

Castiel narrows his eyes at the demon who suddenly appeared in their midst and began to quote Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. The demon regards him with a smirk bordering on a sneer. His suit is expensive and impeccable.

“Hello boys.”

Dean always developed a particular stance when in the presence of the demon. His shoulders set and his eyes narrow, and his chin slightly juts. It demands no nonsense, and Cas can’t help but stare.

Sam’s posture is more open, and his eyes hold a hint of amusement; however, he can develop a fighting posture in a fraction of a second if needed.

Crowley straightens his tie as he looks to Castiel.

“And who might you be?”

Dean straightens even more as his muscles strain with rigidity. The sudden intensity is not lost on the ancient being.

“Ah, he’s yours then? Hum?” Crowley’s eyes rake over Castiel’s form, and the professor looks to the demon and holds his gaze, every other emotion absent but determination. “Shame.”

“So…” Crowley looks to Dean, then his eyes move to Sam. “What have you two gotten yourselves into now, hum?”

Dean’s jaw sets as he looks fiercely at Crowley. “We need information.”

Crowley stretches muscles in his neck that don’t need stretching. His eyes turn to Sam, amusement held in them. “Have you not taught him manners yet, Moose?”

Castiel’s eyes narrow at the odd nickname. His boyfriend’s brother had a nickname. From a demon.

“Ah, yes.” Crowley looks to the writer, “He is Moose and your boyfriend there is Squirrel.” Crowley bites the inside of his cheek in mock concentration. “I fancy myself as Boris, so I suppose you could be Natasha.”

Castiel’s brow furrows and he speaks for the first time, “I don’t understand that reference.”

That comment elicited a chuckle from Sam and an eyeroll from Crowley.

“Can it Crowley, we need information.”

With a look that can only be described as flirtatious, Crowley continues to look at Cas. “Jealous isn’t he?”

“Look, Crowley, we just need to know if Lucifer is still in the cage.”

The demon looks to Sam, the picture of calm. “Do you really think, you flannel-clad nightmare that I would really let BLOODY LUCIFER OUT OF THE BLOODY CAGE?!”

The intensity of the last few words startled Cas, but he was able to hide his surprise under years of training, years of wearing a mask of indifference in the face of fear.

Sam’s eyes lift to the ceiling momentarily and he slightly spreads his hands in a show of placation. “No, we don’t think you let him out. But… uh, there’s some things that have been going on recently, and uh… we think that maybe…”

“The Devil’s behind ‘em.” Dean interrupts.

Crowley’s eyes slightly narrow and he inclines his head to Castiel. “What types of things?”

“Certain events that rivaled the intensity of creation itself. Something old and powerful. Something we surmised may have been instrumented by the fallen archangel.”

Crowley slightly smiles at the professor. His expression turns once more to disinterest as his gaze turns to Dean.

“I assure you boys, Lucifer is in the middle of Hell, rotting, which is where I prefer him.”

Dean nods and moves his head side to side. “Great.” He rolls his eyes and moves away from the Devil’s trap to sit on a work stool.

“Do I sense disappointment in the fact Satan is safely contained?”

“We just thought that if it was Lucifer, it would be you know something we could…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you really think you could stand a chance against Lucifer?”

Sam shrugs, a motion accompanied by a sad smile.

Crowley sighs. “You know our deal. Information for protection.”

Dean nods. “Yeah.”

“Very well. I have it on some authority that the entity you are seeking is nothing.”

“Yeah, we got that memo, thanks.”

“Did you, Squirrel?”

“Yeah, big ole’ pile of nothing.”

Crowley turns to Castiel again. “You seem somewhat intelligent. Do you understand what I am indicating?”

“It’s not nothing, it is Nothing.”

Dean looks to his boyfriend with renewed interest. “So, you’re saying, that’s its name?”

Crowley puts a forefinger on the side of his forehead and winks. “Closer.”

“Wait, what is Nothing?”

“Ah, Moose, therein lies the question. And once you have the answer, call me. Maybe on the telephone, this summoning is… tiresome, hum?”

Castiel looks to Dean, brow furrowed, “He is in your contacts?”

“If we are to work together, your name please.”

Castiel gives Dean a questioning look, and the green-eyes man nods.

“Castiel.”

Crowley smiles, revealing all too perfect teeth. “Ah, angel of Thursday. However, your name is usually spelled Cassiel, no t.”

“Some put the ‘t’ there, it depends.”

“Obviously.”

Crowley looks to Sam and Dean in turn. “Well boys, it’s been enjoyable as always. However, if you would be so kind as to release me from my bonds… unless you have other plans?” A sinful gleam overtakes the demon’s eyes and all three men recoil.

Crowley rolls his eyes. “Fine. Scratch the paint then, hum?”

Sam scoots the paint with his shoes, erasing the paint. As soon as the action is complete, Crowley is gone.

All three men release a sigh when the demon leaves. Dean gets off the stool to wrap his arms around Cas. “You okay?”

Castiel nods. “Of course. He is… interesting.”

Dean smirks. “Yeah.”

Sam chuckles as he comes to pat them both on the back before leaving the shed. “You should’ve seen him when we first met him.”

*******

The trio sit around the kitchen table, mugs of coffee in hand.

“What the fuck is Nothing?”

Sam and Cas shake their heads.

“I don’t know, man.”

“Well, at least we have a name.”

Dean narrows his eyes at his boyfriend as he gestures to him with his coffee. “Do we Cas, because uh, Nothing is kinda a lot like well, nothing.”

Cas wraps both his hands around his mug. “We simply need to find what Nothing is.”

“Simply.” Dean rolls his eyes as he looks to Sam, who smirks ever so slightly.

“I probably should be getting home; Jess has already texted me asking if I could bring back ice cream.”

Sam pushes his mug toward the center of the table and pats his brother and Cas on the shoulder before leaving.

“Bye Sammy.”

“Good-bye Sam, thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, so, this is going to take a lot of research, I’m thinking we call in the whole team, make a weekend of it.”

Dean groans as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’ll start wrangling in everyone.”

“Good. Bye Cas.”

*******

Castiel Novak lays on his back staring at the ceiling wondering just what _nothing_ is composed of. What could it possibly _be_? It existed, so it has to be something.

“Whatcha thinking about Babe?”

“You can probably surmise.”

“Hum.” Dean crawls under the sheet and takes the opportunity of Cas’s position to rest his head on the other man’s chest. He runs his fingers up and down Cas’s stomach and thinks to the professor’s words earlier that day.

“Hannah?”

“What?” Cas moves his head up slightly, lays it back down, and moves his hand to card through Dean’s hair.

“No. I was thinking about the Nothing.”

Relief floods Dean’s body as he begins to draw patterns on Cas’s exposed flesh.

“That’s Enochian.”

Dean should’ve known. “What?” It’s barely a question, barely heard, but Cas hears it.

“You are drawing Enochian protection sigils with your fingers on my flesh.”

Dean shrugs, moving Cas’s body with him. “Uh… yeah, I kinda forgot you’d know.”

“That is perhaps the most romantic thing in existence Dean Winchester.”

Green eyes hide glossy tears. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to go and be a big sap about it.”

“Hum.” A reply Dean knew all too well. It wasn’t dissatisfaction, it was amusement, and Dean smiled at it.

They lay there in silence, each never losing touch with the other even for one second, for a second was too long, and yet not long enough.

“We’re gonna get ‘em, Cas.”

“Yes we will, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading!! I would LOVE to hear from y'all!! :-) Comments and kudos are so very much appreciated, they make my day and most definitely make me smile, I truly appreciate them so much. 
> 
> The pictures were obtained from: https://alacroixparis.com/


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